Forsaken
by Shivani
Summary: Slash, Harry.Draco - Wherein Dumbledore does the unforgivable, and is forsaken by his pawn.
1. Conversations With a Tyrant

**Title**: Forsaken

**Original Upload**: 02 August 2004  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Warnings**: Slash, character deaths, evil!Dumbledore, dark!Harry, super!Harry  
**Main Pairing**: Harry/Draco  
**Spoilers**: PS—OotP

**Disclaimer**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Summary**: Wherein Dumbledore does the unforgivable, and is forsaken by his pawn.

**Notes**: This is a departure from what we know of how his sixth year summer will go (meaning, that it's to be his shortest stay ever at Privet Drive, and it's not even mentioned here) and gallops quite merrily into the world of AU. If betrayal fics aren't your cup of tea, or if over-powered Harry isn't your flavour of the month, you may not like this story. Final note is that I wrote this a long time ago, so the beginning of it is rather fast-paced so I could get to where I wanted to go with the barest of fuss—it may or may not approach believable, but I'm not sure I care.

It does have a lot of problems in it. I've done things which now I think are ridiculous and have Voldemort make assumptions he has no right to make unless he was feeling insanely optimistic (and even then it's laughable in terms of logic). However, I think the story is more about the relationships, so....

* * *

**— 01: Conversations with a Tyrant —**

* * *

Harry had awoken early, which wasn't unusual in and of itself, but as that was the day he was being fetched in order to spend the last week of the summer with the Weasleys, it was guaranteed. He spent the early hours going over his room and gathering up what he would need for the coming year, making sure that everything was securely packed away.

He fidgeted away the remainder of the time or paced back and forth in his room, wondering if he dared tell his friends what he'd come to realize about himself over the summer. He knew what many muggles thought of it and it wasn't good news. Was the wizarding community any different? He would have to be discreet, be careful. If they were the same, they could never find out. He would be tolerated at best, and reviled at worst, should it come to pass that he fulfilled the prophecy, because then he would no longer be necessary.

Shrieks from downstairs pulled Harry from his reverie and he hastily grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage, toeing open the door and dragging his belongings behind him. He cheerfully waved the cage at Tonks and Moody as he entered the front hall and was quickly relieved of his burdens. Moments later he was outside the Burrow, sprawled in the dirt after being released from the influence of a portkey.

Two days later they all went to Diagon Alley to replenish their supplies and purchase books for the new year, and several more after found them at Platform 9¾ saying their good-byes and loading their trunks onto the train, ready to begin school again.

-----

The common room was crowded. War had been waged over the choice spots, but the elder students had won out, leaving the less favored areas to the earlier years for their games of Exploding Snap, wizard's chess, and the occasional bits of homework. Harry was sitting in a comfortable chair working on an essay for Potions on the ethics of veritaserum when his attention was caught by a group of females somewhere behind him.

"—are really against it, or at least many of them are," said one in a high-pitched tone.

"As well they should!" came a shrill exclamation. "It's dead wrong! How could anyone possibly think that same sex pairings could be natural. It's unthinkable!"

"I'm almost surprised Muggle Studies even covered this. It's a disgusting topic."

Harry froze in place, his heart like leaden ice in his chest, his quill poised over his parchment. He didn't notice the ink dripping down and spreading across the words he'd written in spidery lines. He didn't notice anything, or anyone, he just heard those few sentences echo in his mind.

A nudge from Ron broke him free of his circling thoughts and he blushed to realize what he'd done to his essay. He gave his friends a sheepish smile and then sighed. "At least I hadn't got very far. I can easily do it over."

"What got you so glassy eyed anyway?"

"Remembering. . . ." He wouldn't say any more. He knew they would interpret that little bit the way he wished them to. In point of fact, he often thought of Sirius anyway.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a quick glance, then turned to smile at him, not pressing the point. In this case at least Harry knew they wouldn't push him. He'd written of it often enough over the summer—as much as he could bear, anyway.

He stayed by the fire long after the others had gone to their beds, working on his essay, or trying to. It was hard to concentrate, knowing now the answer to the question he'd asked himself not so long ago. It wasn't accepted. It was a secret to be kept, a lie to be lived, for now.

When he was sure his dorm mates must be asleep, he put away his quill and ink, rolled up his parchment, and stole upstairs quietly. His work went into his bag and his cloak to his hand, and he crept back downstairs and out the portrait hole, using the cloak to hide himself as he made for the owlery.

There, he called to Hedwig and sat with her in a casement, shivering as he spoke to her softly of his pain, poured out his heart, and railed in hushed tones against the bigotry of the world. He never realized his every word was listened to, heard clearly despite his care.

He crept into bed an hour later, purged for the moment, but still with a heavy heart, and awoke the next day to a morning bright with sunlight. It only made him feel worse. He was reticent at breakfast, finding it difficult to be cheerful or garrulous, but he tried, for his sake, and for his friends. They were always inquisitive, always wanting to know how he felt. It would not do to appear upset if he could help it.

The day itself was a challenge; even the routine run-ins with the Slytherins weren't enough to bring fire to his eyes, or anger to a heart weighed down with regret. He was engaged in desultory conversation at dinner when an owl arrived, leaving behind a note for him.

_Please come to my office after dinner. The password is 'Ice Mice.' — A.D._

Harry wondered what it was about. He hadn't had any problems with his scar so far that year, so that could not be it. He was too young for the Order, so that was out. What did the headmaster want with him? He shrugged and finished his dinner, let Ron and Hermione know he would be up as soon as he could, then headed to Dumbledore's office, taking a seat once inside.

"Ah, Harry. Sherbet lemon?"

"Er, no, thank you, sir. I'm quite full from dinner."

"Harry, is there anything you'd like to tell me?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling gently.

Confusion set in immediately as he looked at the headmaster. "Sir? No, there's nothing. You know I'd come to you if my scar started in again, or I'd had more of those visions."

Dumbledore nodded genially and asked again, "Are you sure there's nothing you'd like to tell me?"

Harry shook his head, not understanding in the least.

"You see, I do have something to tell you. After the events of last year, I decided I should keep a closer eye on you, so to speak. It was this that allowed me to learn something of a very grave nature."

"Huh? I don't understand."

"I know about your . . . shall we say . . . leanings." At this the headmaster's expression grew clouded and grim.

"Sir?" he asked in bewilderment.

"I can't allow it, Harry. I simply cannot allow it. You are the hope of the wizarding world, and I can let nothing tarnish that."

"Professor, what are you talking about!?" Harry cried in exasperation.

"The deviant side of your nature, of course. I'm sorry, but I'm forced to take steps to make sure you cannot act on this."

Harry started to stand, wanting nothing more than to back away from what sounded distinctly like a threat from a man he respected and trusted.

"It's for your own good, Harry." Dumbledore raised his wand, until now hidden in a mess of papers on his desk, and cried, "Stupefy!"

He came to some time later, groaning and disoriented. He raised one hand to his head and massaged his aching temple, slitting his eyes open to see the familiar pristine white of the infirmary. On his wrist was a silver bracelet, one with no catch, no clasp. He brought down his hand as his eyes opened completely, staring at the metal that encircled his wrist.

It fit against his flesh like a second skin. Tugging at it resulted in nothing; it would not come off, it could not be removed. What the hell had Dumbledore done to him, and who could he tell about what had happened? No one would ever believe Dumbledore had attacked him.

-----

Potions was both a complete bore and a living nightmare. In other words, par for the course. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped out the door and walked with his friends to lunch. He ate with his mind elsewhere, his eyes slowly scanning the Great Hall as he puzzled over the bracelet he was wearing. Strangely enough, no one had asked him about it, and that was even more puzzling.

His eyes passed over the Ravenclaw table and alighted on a seventh year he knew only distantly. John, that was his name. Harry's eyes took on an unfocused look as he gazed at the dark-haired boy, watching the play of laughter over his face. He was brought up short by a burning sensation, of spiders wriggling under the skin of his wrist, and he looked in shock at the bracelet. As if it had never happened, the pain ceased.

He looked up at the head table wildly, but Dumbledore was not present. Frowning Harry shoveled more food onto his fork and ate mechanically, his gaze wandering inevitably back over to John. He started to contemplate the boy again, admiring the grace of the tanned hand that tucked a stray lock of hair back behind one ear only to have his attention jolted again as the pain started, like acid on bare flesh.

The clatter of his fork onto the plate before him caused Ron's head to whip around.

"You all right, Harry?"

Once again the pain ceased, and Harry looked up into his friend's concerned eyes.

"I'm fine. Just . . . thoughts, you know?" Harry looked away and grabbed his glass, sipping deeply before placing it carefully on the table and picking up his fork. What in the name of Merlin's beard was going on!?

Over the next week it continued to happen, and Harry finally made sense of it. Every time he started looking at another boy in 'that way' the pain would come at him, driving his thoughts away to that alone, then cease. It was a warning, and punishment, and it became all too apparent what Dumbledore had meant that evening. He was more of a pawn than he'd ever imagined, with as much free will in this case as a marionette, doomed to dance at the puppeteer's direction.

_That sodding bastard!_ he thought viciously. _How dare he do this to me. We'll just see about this, you doddering old man. How dare you constrain me for fear you'll suffer embarrassment that your Golden Boy would be found out. You will regret the day you ever made that choice._

He scowled into the common room fire and thumped the chair's arm with his fist.

_He took my trust and respect, used it to lure me to his office, and then this? Well, I can only hope that he can only overhear what I speak, not what I think. The bracelet isn't reacting, so it must be tied into only certain thoughts or actions, right?_ His eyes narrowed to slits. _So, I am just a pawn. A useful pawn, but still just a pawn. Sirius might have believed me, but. . . ._

Another week passed, with more pain to remind him of what he could not do, spawning hatred and despair. He had begun to withdraw from his friends into the privacy of his thoughts, those that at least did not bring him punishment, when he was brought up short by a terse note from the headmaster which incinerated itself when he was finished reading it.

_So, I see. Not only am I to be forced into denying a part of myself, but I am to wear a pleasant mask while I do it, lest I face further efforts on his part to correct my demeanor. I would never have dreamed he could do such things. He's as bad as Voldemort, damn it! That insufferable bastard!_

Harry sighed bitterly. Every time he'd seen the headmaster during the past week he'd been treated to genial smiles and twinkling eyes. It was such a hypocritical display it made Harry want to vomit into his meals.

_Wait a minute. If he's shown himself to be as bad as Voldemort, then what do I have to lose? I think it stands to reason that given the chance he'd do just about anything to have things come out his own way. What's the point of all this? In for a penny. . . ._

-----

Harry went through his classes with smiles and laughter, neither of which rang true. The smiles never quite reached his eyes, and his merriment was hollow. But it served to satisfy Dumbledore, and that was what counted. But he schemed. As an experiment he wrote out a few of his reactions to his punishment, not in such a way as to let on to the clueless, but in a fashion that, were Dumbledore to also be monitoring this, would bring down another note.

Nothing happened.

Two days later he tried again, and still nothing happened. He spent an hour or so that night writing a long missive which he sealed in an envelope, then tucked inside his robes. He spent the night sleeping peacefully for once, the letter secreted on his person the entire time.

Saturday morning dawned sunny, though chilly, and he went down to breakfast with a smile on his face, a genuine one, and made idle conversation with Ron and Hermione, joking around as though nothing was wrong. Afterward they returned to the tower for warm clothing, then they began the walk to Hogsmeade. They visited all the shops, purchased chocolate and other sweets, and generally had a good time.

It was when they walked by the owl post office that he took action. "Oh!" he exclaimed with false distress.

"Harry, what is it?"

"I totally forgot to visit the owlery this morning before we came out. Hang on, I need to step in here for a moment. I'll be right back."

He ducked inside and gazed at the owls, looking for one that seemed strong and healthy. He didn't know how far it would need to go, after all. He had to be quick, though, so he made his choice. Paying the clerk, he entrusted the letter he had brought to the owl and gave it a slight wave as it flew away, then went back outside to join his friends.

Several days later he prepared for bed, still hoping, and that time he was not disappointed after he slipped into the depths of sleep.

-----

The walls were time-darkened stone, softened only in places by ragged tapestries so covered in grime that it was impossible to make out what they'd been woven to depict. He turned slowly as he took in his surroundings and took stock of the situation. He took a deep breath, then exhaled. He could be hurt here, but not directly.

Then he realized he was not alone. It was different this time, though, so with hesitance he spoke in the recesses of his mind—their mind for now.

"Voldemort?"

"Potter." His name was spoken with heat.

"You must have received my letter."

"Obviously," snapped Voldemort.

"Good, then you know I wish to parley. Are you willing? Either way, you'll win."

"You said as much in your missive. What do you want, boy?"

"I need you to capture me, by arrangement. This is not an easy way to talk for either of us."

"What?!"

He could feel the surprise and suspicion roll off the simple word. "I said I wish you to capture me. We need to talk and it's the best way. I only ask for my safety at your hands, and at the hands of your minions, until our discussion is over. By then, it may not matter anyway."

"Fine," came the terse response. "You have my word, if you can trust that."

"Since I know the complete prophecy, I think I can live with that trust for now. We're allowed Hogsmeade any weekend. Arrange something for a Saturday. I will go each time."

"You'd better not be lying, boy. I will rip you to shreds before I kill you."

"Don't worry, Voldemort. My life is worthless right now anyway. I have nothing to lose, and we have everything to gain."

"We?" The surprise was back, coloured by confusion.

"Yes, we. I must go now. I can feel myself slipping away into waking. Arrange it!"

Harry awoke with a start, then smiled widely and settled back into normal sleep.

-----

He spent every weekend in Hogsmeade, making whatever excuses seemed likely at the time. To help persuade Hermione he would bring some of his homework with him and make an exceptional show of studiousness, only to prove out when the essays written there came back with his highest grades. For Ron he would spend time at Zonko's and help dream up ideas for Fred and George to employ in their own shop.

It was a typical Saturday when they were attacked without warning near the Shrieking Shack, a place they had taken to visiting during constitutional walks around the village. They never heard their attackers draw near and so Harry went down into unconsciousness without a sound, never seeing the Dark Mark hovering in the air overhead.

He awoke a timeless span later, aching and stiff from the damp surroundings. Sounds made him look up to see a masked and robed Death Eater approaching, so he stood carefully and waited. His cell was opened and he followed the anonymous figure after a curt gesture. Harry was harmless, after all. He didn't have his wand anymore.

Twisting watery tunnels wound dizzyingly around until at last he was pushed through an oaken door that slammed shut behind him. Before him rested a simple chair, and also one so pretentious it was almost a throne, seated upon which was Voldemort.

"He can't hear you any longer. Speak as you will."

"Voldemort," he acknowledged.

"Potter."

"I do have a first name, you know," he said with some asperity.

"You are quite the brave little Gryffindor, aren't you."

"Yes, but I'm a lot more than you know." He sat down in the remaining chair and looked at his nemesis. "Quite frankly, I liked you better as Tom Riddle. Easier on the eyes at least."

A hissing intake of breath let him know he'd scored, so he quickly went on. "I'm here to parley. As I said before, my life is currently worthless."

"And why is that."

"Some I mentioned, some I didn't. I've come to the painful realization that Dumbledore is not much different from you, regardless of the side he claims. _You've_ only tried to kill me. He's taken away my free will and made me suffer for things I have no control over. With a smile, I might add."

"Explain."

"I'll get to that. I'm here to either switch sides or be killed by you. Either way, we both win. Either way, I'm free."

Voldemort shifted upon his throne-like chair and shot Harry a piercing gaze, but did not speak.

"I will tell you why I've reached this decision, and you will tell me your thoughts. If we come to a mutually satisfactory agreement, I'll explain the prophecy willingly—my interpretation of it anyway. If we cannot agree, or you are as bad as that bastard, then you'll kill me and I won't be in any position to give a damn any longer anyway."

"There isn't much to cause me to stay my hand, boy, but curiosity wins out this time."

"The least you could do is use my name. It isn't that much to grant a dead man."

"You aren't dead—yet—Harry."

"Thank you," he responded and lifted his wrist. "This . . . thing . . . is the reason I'm here. Take a look. I expect you'll understand why."

He watched as Voldemort puzzled over the bracelet, never touching either it or himself. The pain of being near his nemesis was somewhat muted, which surprised him, but he wasn't about to question it. He could tolerate it, though it was wearing on his strength.

"I see," hissed Voldemort, who then produced his wand and began a long incantation in a language Harry didn't understand. He did, however, understand the burning pain in his wrist and fought to keep from crying out. He would not give in in front of this . . . man . . . if he could help it.

A sudden cessation of pain made him exhale deeply, and found him struggling to sit up straight against the supporting comfort of the chair's back. The bracelet lay on the floor in a charred mass of black. Harry bit his lip and lifted his head to meet the eyes of Voldemort.

"He did this to you."

"Yes. He said he was sorry, but he couldn't allow my 'deviant nature' to be acted on." He paused to catch his breath before continuing, "He told me once that our choices make us who we are, far more than our abilities. He made a choice, one that utterly abrogated mine, and made it quite clear what he's willing to do in the name of Light. He made it quite clear he's willing to use me as a pawn and a tool and consequences be damned."

"I see."

"Do you? I'd rather be dead by your hand or my own than live like that. I'd rather go back to the muggle world where at least some accept what I am."

"No, that won't be necessary, if you're willing, as you said, to join your power to my own."

"Are you as bad?"

"In this matter? No." Voldemort's voice was strangely calm. "Many of my minions are here for the promise of power or to allow them to act out their natures in a setting of acceptance. You, however, are different."

"How so, if I may be so bold as to ask."

"You already have power, beyond their imagining. And your 'deviant nature' as you call it, is hardly of the same order as men and women who answer my call so that they may torture and maim for the sheer pleasure of it. True loyalty is desired, but rarely given. Too many of them are barely above incompetence. Those ones are kept in line by pain."

"You don't sound the same as you did in the Chamber."

That earned him an intense, searching look.

"You don't. Tom Riddle said we had much in common. I can't say as I entirely disagreed. But your ruthlessness doesn't have quite the same ring to it, that's all."

"I don't care about this, let that be known. My years in the muggle world taught me more than hatred and retribution. I'll even help you, if you choose to join me."

"I need you to stop the pain. It hurts me to be near you. Or tell me how to do it myself. I need you to teach me all that they refused to. But. . . ."

"But what?"

"I don't agree with all your aims. I don't like causing people pain, hurting them. I do not want to become a soulless creature who experiences pleasure in the subjugation of innocents."

A slight cough. "I will take that as you meant and not as it sounds."

Harry felt heat rise in his cheeks and cast a sheepish look at the man before him. "Sorry."

Voldemort waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I think we can come to an understanding, Harry. Yet . . . Harry must die."

"Yes, he must. Though I don't think you understand why like I do."

Voldemort shot him a dark look for his insolence. "Your two friends are also here, waiting in the dungeons."

"I'm not sure they'd continue to be my friends if they knew my secret, but I don't want them harmed."

"They won't be. Well, only a little. If Harry is to die, this must be played out accordingly."

Harry nodded. "What would you prefer I call you? I don't think I can stomach master or lord," he said honestly.

Appraising red eyes met his for a time. "The pawn is in play? Yes, you are quite right. You're as powerful as I, or more so. Tom. You shall be the only one to use such without retaliation. Come, I will show you to your new chambers."

They rose, and Tom led the way through a different door and up a set of stairs, into the ground floor of a building that was furnished graciously and with care toward aesthetics. Harry followed the black-cloaked figure to the third floor and down a hallway to stop before a mahogany door.

"Here, your wand. Rest and refresh yourself, and I will return later. Do not leave this suite. I cannot afford to have you seen as of yet."

Harry nodded and accepted his wand, entered the room and closed the door behind him, then flung himself onto the four-poster bed in the connecting room and slept.

-----

Voldemort swept down the hallway and into his study, furiously thinking of how to pull things off. The boy had courage in spades, by Merlin! To literally gift himself unto the Dark Lord and be willing to die rather than be forced into a false semblance of life? That old fool Dumbledore had finally made a serious mistake, one that would cost him everything.

He sat and propped his legs up on his desk. The boy also had a large measure of stubbornness, combined with morals and values he was unwilling to relinquish. But, those were a part of his strength and power, and must not be tampered with. To try to turn the boy completely would likely result in having to kill him, or watch him suicide before his eyes.

He snapped his fingers and looked up at the house elf he had summoned.

"Maer, there is a boy in the Green Suite. Watch over him and allow no one to enter, nor allow him to leave. Tell no one about him, and stand ready to provide anything he needs. When he's refreshed, report to me, then go back to watch him. Dismissed."

The elf disappeared immediately.

He would need three people, all to die, but for different reasons. He swung his legs off the desk and grabbed a handful of powder, tossed it into the nearby fire and barked, "Malfoy Manor, Study. Lucius Malfoy!"

Moments later, Lucius stepped through the fire and knelt before him.

"Rise. I need you to find out two things for me, Lucius."

"Yes, my lord."

"Who is the current Defense teacher at Hogwarts, and who would be a likely candidate for next year in that position, someone whom Dumbledore would not suspect, and would definitely hire should this year's be killed or incapacitated."

"Yes, my lord. I will do so immediately." Lucius knelt again, briefly, then stepped into the fire and was gone.

He threw another handful of powder into the fire and snapped, "Fairview Manor, Study. Nicholas Bartley!"

Moments later, Nicholas stepped through the fire and knelt before him. This was one of his most loyal Death Eaters.

"Rise," he commanded, watching the man carefully.

"Yes, master."

"Would you be willing to die for me, Bartley? Die without ever understanding why?"

"If it is your will, master, so be it."

"Settle your affairs. Quietly. Your family will be provided for most handsomely."

-----

Harry woke and pulled himself to a sitting position, then gazed around the room blearily. His hand fumbled to the right for his glasses, and finding them slipped them on, bringing the room into focus. The walls were painted a deep green, reminiscent of the cool depths of a forest. The bed upon which he sat was fashioned from polished black wood and sported hangings of pale green, like budding leaves in Spring.

A sound off to the side caught his attention and he turned to see a house elf sitting near the door, looking at him expectantly.

"Does the young man require anything? A bath? Food?" it asked.

"Er . . . both, please."

The sleep had done him good and the bath was relaxing as well. The soothing warmth helped ease away the aches and stiffness from the dungeons and allowed his mind to lie fallow for a while. With a sigh he stood and dried himself, then pulled on a thick bathrobe and went out into the sitting room to find a meal waiting.

He tucked in, hungry, and quickly demolished the food on his plate and drank the large glass of pumpkin juice. When he was finished he stretched out on the couch and settled back to stare up at the carvings in the ceiling. A loud knock made him sit up and stare as the door opened and Voldemort walked in.

"Tom?"

"Good, you are feeling better. Come with me. There are things we need to determine, you and I."

Harry followed until they reached a room a short distance away obviously used as a study, then waited nervously as Voldemort entered.

"Stand before the mirror. Consider this a test for an ability I suspect you may have."

He complied, still nervous, and faced his reflection, gazing at Voldemort standing behind him.

"Concentrate, Harry. Imagine that your hair is a different colour and focus as hard as you can on that."

A puzzled frown flitted across his face. Hair colour? Tonks. Harry stared into his own eyes and focused, imagining that his hair was a violent pink, determined to make it so. He struggled with that one thought. Ever since that conversation with Tonks he'd dreamed of being a metamorphmagus, but no one had ever tested him.

He shook himself mentally. He must concentrate. He must—his hair was pink. A rather frightening shade of pink, to be exact. Harry blinked, then grinned and caught the eye of Voldemort in the mirror.

"I did it!" he crowed and began bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

"Indeed, and thus my suspicion is proven correct. Come and sit with me a moment."

Voldemort moved away in the reflection and sat before the fireplace, so Harry turned and joined him, sitting on the chair directly opposite, still grinning foolishly.

"You need to become a new person, both in looks and name. I would like you to think about both over the next few days, and present me with the results. Choose carefully. With this ability, you will be able to hide that . . . scar . . . as well. You have free rein of this floor for the time being. No one will come up here aside from myself and the house elf I have assigned to you. You may return to your room."

Harry nodded and leapt to his feet saying, "Yes, Tom!" then dashed away.


	2. Heir Apparent

**Original Upload**: 07 August 2004  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Removed the reference to Nagini in this chapter (20 September 2008) when Leianora pointed out she was there, and yet is dead later on. Didn't feel like writing a snapshot for it. Also, I've decided, in a fit of unparalleled laziness, that the bracelet Dumbles placed on Harry's wrist did more than the obvious, and from the study of it is where Voldemort got some of his more bizarre notions about Harry and Harry's 'power'.

* * *

**— 02: Heir Apparent —**

* * *

Harry stood before the mirror in his room that Maer had produced and gazed at his reflection. Slightly wavy dark auburn hair framed a triangular face and fell down his back. Amber eyes, flecked with red, glowed faintly in the mellow light of the room. A sculptured face, both delicate and strong, gave rise to conflicting impressions, along with a tall, lithe figure composed of sleek muscles which concealed his strength more than it revealed.

He was pleased. He looked nothing like his former self. He looked commanding, strong, but deceptively fragile. It should serve him well; underestimation is always a potent ally for the aware. Harry stepped away from the mirror and pulled on a plush robe, then moved into the lounge and sat down to eat the meal provided by Maer. Noise from the door made him look up long enough to see Voldemort enter and sit across from him, but he continued to dine, knowing it would not be taken as an insult.

"Your transformation is quite good, Harry. But yet, you need a new name as well."

Harry chewed thoughtfully, dangling his fork, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Is there any way I could be adopted as your son? Magically, I mean?"

Voldemort blinked at him.

"Is there?"

The slits of Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he considered then spoke, "Yes, there is. Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Of course, Tom. I'm joining you, aren't I? Why not be your son and heir? It's not like we have any particular feelings for each other, but still. . . . Maybe that would come in time. You did save me, after all. Though, I'd still need a first name." Harry took a sip from his glass.

"If that's what you want, I don't object."

Harry nodded and went back to pondering names. After a time he looked back up. "Hmm. How about . . . Brand? Ironic in a sly sort of way."

"Excuse me?"

"I refuse to wear the Dark Mark, but it is your brand." Harry arched his eyebrow with a smirk, causing Voldemort to chuckle for the first time he'd ever witnessed.

"Yes, that will do nicely. Brand. We'll perform the ceremony after you've eaten. It will change your name and no magical means will thereafter be able to detect that it was anything else. Ancient magic is useful in more ways than one."

Harry suddenly sat up straight, a worried frown crossing his face.

"What is it?"

"The Marauder's Map. If one group can make it to begin with, so could someone else. What about next year? I'll be yet another person. How do you know I won't be found out?"

"Map? What are you referring to?"

Harry jumped up and strode quickly to his dresser, pulling open the top drawer and fishing out a piece of parchment. He walked back out to Voldemort and intoned, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," and tapped it with his wand, then handed it to the older man.

"It's how I could tell who was at Hogwarts. How I knew Barty Crouch was on the grounds. If it can be made once. . . ."

"We'll figure something out. You have great power, so I suspect even something like this can be fooled with enough effort and inventiveness."

Harry slumped in his chair, relieved, then frowned again.

"Yes?"

"Er, after the ceremony . . . what do I call you?"

Voldemort looked at him appraisingly. "That is up to you, Harry. You can continue to use Tom if you wish. A point though. . . ." Harry looked up questioningly. "You will need to produce an heir of your own. You need not lie with a woman to do so, it can be handled magically. Are you willing?"

Harry nodded and went back to his meal.

-----

Voldemort lay back against the pillows and relaxed. It was done. He had a son, Brand Riddle. A son, and heir! Exaltation rose within his breast, different from the times when he'd easily tortured, or when he'd experienced the release of his minions from Azkaban.

It was softer, less edged. He shook himself mentally and turned his focus toward Brand's training and their plans. Toward the death of Harry Potter. The Order must be frantic by now. The boy had been amazingly fast in his defection, and pleasingly obedient. He was amazed at how obedient. So long as he hid nothing, the boy was compliant if it did not contradict his morals. They must seal the fate of the Boy Who Lived quickly, before anything had a chance to go wrong.

The prophecy had been enlightening. He could understand now why the boy had chosen to act as he had. He had sidestepped the prediction in a fashion worthy of Salazar himself. Neither could live while the other survived, so Harry Potter had been obliterated. He chuckled to himself. The prophecy had been fulfilled, just not in a way that stubborn old fool had imagined. Tomorrow they would finish it, and let the Light fall into despair for their failures and mistakes.

-----

Voldemort and Brand watched the boy before them, prompting him to turn slowly to display the entirety of his transformation.

"_Yes, he will do nicely,_" hissed Voldemort in Parseltongue to his son.

Brand smirked and nodded back, then returned his gaze to the boy. He was perfect, the exact duplicate of Harry Potter, though his skin was marked with seeping cuts and blossoming bruises. He had willingly stayed awake for two days at his lord's command and it showed. Dark circles shadowed the brilliant green eyes and his face was slack with exhaustion. He made no effort to stem the flow of blood. He was perfect.

"Get to the dungeons, to the cell. You must be ready when we arrive. Let no one see you," commanded Voldemort as the boy knelt at his feet with his head bowed.

The boy stood and slipped out, leaving them alone.

"We will go down shortly and drag him out. Your former friends will be ready, chained to a wall, unwilling witnesses to Harry Potter's demise. They will be allowed to escape at the hands of the traitor and carry back the tale of horror."

Brand nodded and sat on the edge of the desk, swinging his legs idly while looking at Tom. His . . . father. What should he call him? Would it be a _complete_ betrayal of biology to call him thus?

"You'll need to be masked and cloaked. Until you are trained, we cannot risk your identity."

"Understood." He chose neither appellation for the time being. He'd worry over it later.

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Voldemort rose. Brand slipped off the desk and reached for a mask, and put it carefully in place before pulling up the hood of his robes. Thus made anonymous, the two walked down to the dungeons and into a room made vile with scabrous, phosphorescent fungi that covered the damp walls.

Hanging from rusted chains were Ron and Hermione, looking not much better than the fake Harry. He closed his eyes briefly against the pang of remorse that pierced his heart. It would be better this way. They would never learn the truth; Harry Potter would remain in their memory as the Boy Who Lived, and their friend. They would never have the chance to learn to hate him for what he was, and what he'd become. He must play his role, the one he had chosen.

He let out a low chuckle, mirthless and cold, as their heads slowly raised to see who had come. He steeled himself against the looks in their eyes and gracefully swept over to stand by Voldemort's side.

"Bring him," snapped out Voldemort commandingly, letting venom lace his voice like rivulets of acid.

Four masked Death Eaters left in a swirl of sable robes and returned a few minutes later dragging an apparently broken Harry. That he was so tired lent verisimilitude to the surreal tableau. He was dropped unceremoniously on the floor at the center of the room and left there sprawled and panting. The two watchers gasped in fear and cried out unintelligibly.

"Any last words, Potter?" Voldemort's tone was scathingly condescending, full of malicious amusement.

The sprawled figure groaned and tried to sit up, but fell back with a cry of pain.

"Pathetic. You should be thanking me for ending your worthless excuse for a life." He stepped back and brandished his wand at the boy. "Avada Kedavra!" he roared.

Blinding green light filled the room, then faded. Harry Potter was dead, and his friends were sobbing and rattling their chains in futile denial.

-----

She came awake all at once, the stinging pain in her cheek an agony to be endured.

"Wake up, you foolish girl! There isn't much time, damn you!"

She was being shaken violently and slapped, causing her head to snap back in another jolt of pain. She opened her eyes to see Professor Snape crouched over her like a storm cloud, his expression thunderous in its intensity.

"Come on, damn it!"

He dragged her to her feet and cursed when she buckled. She felt herself thrown over his shoulder, the breath knocked out of her as his bony shoulder slammed into her stomach. It only got worse as he swept off at a lope, and darkness overcame her.

She awoke to softness and warmth, confused and bewildered. Cautiously she slit her eyes open, peeking out from beneath her lashes. The infirmary? Her eyes flew open and she looked around wildly. There. In the next bed was Ron, looking like death itself.

Voices intruded from nearby and she strained to hear them.

"—do nothing, Albus! I wasn't even _summoned_ until after he was dead!"

Dead. Harry was dead. She'd watched it happen, constrained by wounds and pain and chains. Watched as he was brought low by the killing curse. Wracking, hysterical sobs overtook her as she curled up in a ball, unaware of Madam Pomfrey hurrying into the room carrying a bottle.

-----

Dumbledore was, to put it mildly, pissed in both senses of the word—roaring drunk and madder than a wet hen. In the space of an evening he destroyed more items in his office than Harry ever had during his rage of the year before. He spent the night passed out in the ruin of his office, to be found the next morning by a shocked and horrified Minerva.

-----

They had been returned to Hogwarts by the hand of the traitor, alive. His father had kept his word. He thought back over the past few months. They had been hard, to be sure, but fruitful. He glanced at one of the shelves in the workroom, spying his wand. He hardly needed it anymore, but he saw no particular reason to be rid of it.

In three short months he had become proficient in wandless magic, an Adept even, or beyond. Why anyone thought it was difficult was beyond him. Being underestimated was valuable, though, so he kept the wand. It might come in useful if those books were anything to judge by. With that thought he picked it up in his right hand and sat down to reread the ancient writings. He could do this, he was sure of it. Duel weapon combat had interested him for some time now.

He stood and stepped to the center of the room, focusing his will on his hands. He felt rather than saw the glow of his eyes blaze up and watched as a sai formed of serpents twisted around the core of his wand appeared, their forked tongues grossly elongated into razor-sharp sides flanking the central conical blade. In his left hand a replication, though lacking the magical core.

He smiled and left the room to find his father, intending to request physical combat training for Christmas.

-----

He padded around the room flicking his tail and rumbled deep in his throat at his father, then yawned to reveal curving ivory fangs of a menacing stature. Voldemort nodded and allowed a small smile to flit across his changed face, and Brand transformed back into human form. He had a sudden absurd urge for cream, so he giggled, and then harder at the look of astonishment on his father's face.

-----

"There. That is what you must learn to become for our plan to work. It should be no great task for you, though you'll have to maintain it for the coming year. Luckily, he isn't too . . . displeasing . . . to the eyes."

"Yes, father. I won't disappoint you, or our plans." He smiled sweetly and was rewarded with a knowing smirk.

"You'll be able to leave the premises for this. You'll need to in order to study the real man, learn his habits and gestures, how he speaks. I know you've learned enough to protect yourself from anything, and you won't reveal your surveillance. For now, learn to take on his guise. When you've gone out to complete the second part of this, contact me if you run into any trouble, but let me know before you depart."

Brand smiled and nodded, waiting until Voldemort swept out before beginning his meticulous study of the manikin, prowling around the figure slowly.

Even as his mind etched every detail to memory, another part followed an independent line of thought. He was, at that point, far more powerful than his father, having learned things he'd only dreamed of before. They had laid low, considering what Voldemort stood for, and the information reported back by the Death Eaters was interesting to say the least.

The wizarding world, after a massive outcry of grief and fear, had settled down. It was almost as though they preferred to believe that the Dark Lord had once again vanished, or gone to ground to gloat over his decisive victory over the forces of Light. They were divided between those who continued to cower in fear, those who blithely decided the danger had passed into other realms, and those who marshaled watchful forces against another uprising.

Did it matter for the moment? The Death Eaters were gathering intelligence at every opportunity, and feeding back false words to the traitor in their midst, using him as a pawn even as Dumbledore did. He was too useful to kill, and might yet become valuable. Let it not be said that some had not been killed, for they had. Cornelius Fudge, for example, had met an especially gruesome death. Brand winced a little at the thought, but it had been a necessary evil. The man's surpassing incompetence had been an abomination, and his death had paved the way for a sleeper to be appointed in his stead.

Lives were precious to him. His father knew that and allowed for it accordingly. The raids that the minions of dark did perform were carefully staged to cause terror and pain, but never death except by accident or purposeful design, and were intermittent enough so as to provide no sensible pattern of attack.

A flowing sensation arrested his thoughts, causing him to blink and cast a look over his shoulder at a mirror bolted to the wall. Perfect. Dirty blond hair spiked upward over a ruggedly handsome face and warm hazel eyes peered back at him. He was taller and more muscular than he was as Brand, and not in a way he particularly cared for. It was too obvious in his opinion, too flagrantly blatant. Like Lockhart.

He shrugged. So be it. He left the room with a last glance at the manikin and went to find his father. It was time he did a little stalking.

-----

Spring scented the air with new life bursting from the ground and the trees. Brand inhaled deeply from his seat in the garden, twirling a rose between his fingers and thinking about love. He was lonely. Soon though, it would be summer. He'd be able to spend some time with people his own age, even if they did not realize it. He did, after all, look to be in his mid-twenties. Perhaps that was wise though. If he appeared to be their elder, they would make certain assumptions that were to his benefit and advantage.

He tucked the rose behind his ear and stood. Soon. He had a meeting to prepare for in the meantime.

-----

His robes were of the deepest black embroidered with threads of glittering gold. His mask was priceless rutilated amber molded by magic to fit him exactly, and while thick enough to obscure his features it was not uncomfortable. He slipped it on and pulled up his hood, checking his reflection in the mirror before heading off to join his father.

Once there he took up his place, standing slightly behind and to the left of his father's throne-like chair. Musicians waited in a minstrels' gallery at one end of the ballroom, ready to play at their lord's signal, and a series of tables were positioned nearby, draped in snowy linen and set for dinner.

His father arrived and took his seat after flashing a quick, private smile at Brand. On the whole, he was looking far more human than in the past, though he never looked anything close to it while away from the confines of the estate. Moments later their guests arrived and arrayed themselves in semi-circles, inner and outer, major and minor, then dropped to one knee before rising again.

Brand noticed more than a few curious glances cast his way, but none were so bold as to openly stare. He smiled beneath his mask and waited.

"Before we begin, I have a few announcements to make, my faithful." Voldemort swept his gaze around the assemblage before continuing. "I would introduce you to someone," he said, inclining his head slightly.

Brand stepped forward at this signal to stand even with his father's chair.

"My faithful, allow me to present Brand Riddle, my son and heir," he said, gesturing with his left hand.

The assemblage emitted startled, soft gasps as Brand lowered his hood and removed the mask, then they quickly fell to one knee, holding the position for a heartbeat before rising.

"You will," drawled Voldemort, "obey him as you obey me. If I hear to the contrary, be sure you will regret it most dearly."

Brand smirked at the controlled menace in his father's voice.

A collective, "Yes, my lord," rolled forth in muted tones as dozens of eyes flicked back and forth between Voldemort and Brand.

"Also, let it be known that you shall bring forth your children this summer to the estate, those that are worthy of the honor to serve and are willing. We have no use for anything but. They shall be . . . sorted . . . then."

He snapped his fingers sharply and stood, making his way to the head table, closely followed by Brand. Once they were seated, the assemblage arranged themselves at tables according to their preferences, and dinner began.

Placed at the head table with them were Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Brand remained mostly quiet, interjecting mainly with relevant or insightful commentary. He was amused at the continued looks of surprise and did not hide the faint smirks they provoked, but neither did he make it anything other than clear that he was, in fact, his father's right-hand man for good reason.

After dinner the musicians were signaled and a ball commenced. Brand, though he had asked for and been granted lessons in dancing, refrained. Instead he circulated through the room, pausing to speak with individuals and small groups of people, getting a feel for the people who aligned themselves with his father.

He noted with sharp interest that the couples on the floor were not limited to so-called conventional pairings. The smile that graced his face at that was dazzling, causing several that witnessed it to flush. So he was not disappointed in the least by this evening. His father had not lied back then.

It was also of note that while these people were slightly obsequious, they held themselves proudly and appeared quite willing to be there. Despite the changes in the Dark Lord's plans, they stood ready to follow and heed his commands.

Brand continued to mingle, the picture of a gracious host, charming nearly everyone he spoke with. For now, let them think as they would. Should any be so foolish as to challenge him, they would learn the truth readily enough and would not soon forget the lessoning. His father could play the heavy, and he would hold himself in reserve.


	3. Switch

**Original Upload**: 14 August 2004  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

* * *

**— 03: Switch —**

* * *

He was breathless with excitement. Later that day would come an influx of young people to the estate. He wanted to bounce around like a child, but that would be highly undignified. And in a few weeks would unfold the beginning of their plan. The current Defense teacher would be removed in an arranged accident after the capture of their target teacher, and the current Minister of Magic would make certain recommendations as to his replacement.

He roamed the third floor restlessly until it was near time to assemble, then went back to his room to dress in his ceremonial robes and mask. He would be presented in a similar manner as before, then left to make what he would of the young men and women brought for his and his father's approval. His opinion counted for much in this, as some would become part of his personal inner circle.

Dressed and ready, he marched off to the garden with a purposeful air. As it turned out, it was remarkably similar to the previous instance, though this time it was the younger set who expressed shock and shot curious and appraising glances his way.

He enjoyed himself immensely after his father gave leave and swept off, setting his new companions at ease with jokes and calculatedly affable behavior. Granted, he knew many of them by sight if not by true nature, so he held the upper hand in more ways than one.

Many of them were too facile to be trusted with any true depth of trust, though they would serve well enough for the outer circles of minions. A few, however, were proving at present to be quite interesting, the most surprising of which was Pansy Parkinson. She was nothing like what he'd seen at school and apparently had quite a set of brains. He was far less surprised by Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. He'd known those two were intelligent.

He spent quite a bit more time with that trio than any of the others, causing no end of chagrin on the part of the less favored. That was their problem though, not his. They would either fit in and strive to prove themselves, or be cast aside to the lowest ranks, if at all. He mentally shrugged and refocused on the people sitting with him.

"So, let's get down to business. Why don't each of you tell me why you're here?" he drawled smoothly, flipping his hair back in a practiced gesture and arching one brow.

Blaise immediately spoke up. "To see if you find us worthy, and compatible. To see if we can contribute of ourselves something of value, my lord."

Brand nodded and favored him with a small smile. "You could put it that way, Blaise," he remarked amiably, "but I would suggest you give further answers a little more detail and weight." He glanced at Pansy and Draco.

"Because I wish to be of more use to our world than pushing papers in a meaningless job or wasting my life away in idle pursuits of the rich, my lord," offered Pansy.

"Your answer is more than a little self-serving, my dear," he replied as he shot her a dark, intense look that caused her to blush in discomfort. "And if service to the Dark Lord requires you to push papers around in order to gather intelligence for our cause?"

"Then that is what I would do, my lord. But at least it would be for a higher purpose and have meaning in that instance. It would be worth the effort, despite the circumstances." She bit her lip, then straightened proudly in her seat.

"Much better, Pansy. I suggest you think before you speak next time, lest you embarrass yourself again. I can tell you're quite a bit more intelligent than you generally let on, so please do try to show this in my presence. I will not always be so kind if you persist in that kind of foolishness."

"Yes, my lord."

He turned his attention to Draco and angled his head slightly to the side.

"To do what I may to aid you and your father, my lord. While I may not always agree with some of the things that have been done in the past, I see the overall necessity of the actions. There are too many corrupt individuals in positions of power, people that harm everyone indiscriminately, regardless of affiliation. Fudge, for example, was a hindrance to both sides, and friend to none."

Brand arched his brow again. "Interesting answer, Draco. Very interesting indeed. I see you were paying attention. Well, in any case, I notice none of you mentioned the matter of trust."

He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers under his chin. "You see, you will have to earn my trust and you will have to prove your abilities. You will have the same opportunities as everyone here, or more, depending on how you fare. I expect you will all do your utmost to be worthy of the honor bestowed upon you by being allowed here in the first place."

He smiled sweetly at them, softening his words in a beguiling manner, then stood. Clapping his hands in a sharp report, he caught the attention of all the young people in the garden. "If you will allow me, I will show you to your rooms. Please follow me."

Brand turned and headed inside, not bothering to see if he was obeyed, and climbed up the main staircase. On reaching the third floor he paused and looked back saying, "It's just a little further." He started upward again only to stop at a questioning voice behind him.

"What's on this floor? Can we look around?"

"There's nothing on this floor that concerns you," he drawled. As he lifted his foot to continue on he was stopped yet again by the sound of a body slamming against the wall. He sighed and turned, a look of exasperation on his face. "Honestly."

He snapped his fingers quickly and addressed the elf that appeared. "Maer, please remove this idiot. Have him healed and returned to his parents. He is not to be allowed into the estate again, and you will inform my father of these events and my decision. Now go."

He turned back to the stairs and continued up to the fourth floor.

-----

Over the past few weeks it had become obvious who held little value and who should be retained with an eye toward inclusion into the ranks of Death Eaters, and more specifically into Brand's inner circle. Those of the least ability were segregated out gently and sent home, relegated to tasks that held little risk of exposure.

Voldemort kept a light link active during the sessions Brand took with the remaining teens so that he could give over a portion of his attention to observation. He discussed them over dinner each night with his son and was both pleased and gratified at the measure of insightfulness his son possessed when it came to each individual, even occasionally presenting one in such a way as to force him to realize an attribute he had not previously recognized.

He participated in one session for the express purpose of showing the youths that his son was indeed a force to be reckoned with. He himself could not magically or physically harm his son, not even with the killing curse, but this was not something they revealed. As he had long since come to implicitly trust Brand, he wasted no concern over the matter.

He had stood on hand merely as a safeguard as the students gave everything they had toward the goal of temporarily incapacitating his son, and all of them failed miserably. It became obvious before long that Brand had gained the devotion and trust of his companions. He never lied to them, and told them when he could not answer some question posed of him.

They came to realize that over the weeks, and to trust that when Brand told them something it was for good reason, and disobeying was not the wisest of choices. However, they had little reason to object, given the measure of trust and honesty they had been extended, and it became clear to Voldemort that his son's methods would gain them a circle of unfailing allies who would do as commanded, even if there was no time to explain why they were to do what was being asked of them. That particular accomplishment was beyond price.

The last week before they were sent home, as they must be so that Brand could turn to his role for the next year, he spent a great deal of time laughing as he remotely observed the turn of events designed to teach the teens to preserve their masks at any cost.

Brand had taken to surprising them randomly with outrageous actions, even going so far at one point as to begin undressing in front of them. Each failure to fail to react was met with a stinging, though ultimately harmless, punishment. It was, however, extremely unpleasant and got across quite well the point. No matter what happens, do not react, unless it was required of you in the assigned role. Anything else could result in the loss of life.

Before they were let go they were informed that Draco, Pansy, and Blaise were to be their contacts within the school. To no one else, even amongst themselves, were they to discuss any matters pertaining to the Dark Lord. Only to one of those three could they report. Above all else, anything of importance would be protected by silencing charms.

Those three were held back for a few hours before being released to return to their homes and taught a particular signal that would allow them to learn of their only trusted contact within the school, and what method to use in order to initiate a report, and then what would happen when they did.

-----

It had not escaped Brand during the final week that two people in particular had reacted quite favorably to some of his antics, betraying more than mere surprise. He tucked that realization into a corner of his mind to mull over later and transformed himself into the guise of Aldren Archer, the man he had observed for several months straight. Archer had been chosen for his utter lack of family, his qualifications, and his tendency to rarely venture out. For a person like him, the position of Defense teacher at Hogwarts would seem like a dream come true given the security of the castle.

Rolling his eyes at his new appearance, he held up the vial of blood from the man he resembled and performed a ritual of incantations and potions that had taken months of research to create and test, one that overlaid his real identity with that of the target in such a way as to be undetectable. Convenient, at that. The real Archer was languishing in a room on the third floor, victim of the dementor's kiss, another necessary casualty now watched over by a rotation of house elves to assure that he remained alive.

Brand stopped by his father's study long enough to inform him of his departure, then took up residence in Archer's home and waited for the notice to appear in the Daily Prophet that would spur him to action.

A week later found him sitting in Dumbledore's office sipping tea and noshing on assorted biscuits while chatting cordially with the headmaster about the open position. He wasn't particularly worried even if the old fool wasn't taken in. If his own father couldn't touch him, neither could anyone else, and the only person who had access to his mind was Voldemort, and only by his allowance.

Two weeks later found him back at the castle in his new quarters. He spent several delightful hours redecorating, choosing colours which complemented his appearance, using warm browns and creams, accented here and there by pale yellow. The time until the students arrived for the new year was spent in meeting his fellow professors and going over the past several years of Defense classes to determine exactly what he should be teaching for each set of students, and what schedule he would be following.

He sat at the head table in high good humor as the students filed in noisily and went to their house tables. In an odd sort of way, it was very pleasant to be back at Hogwarts. Luckily, Archer was known to be quite genial when he felt secure, so Brand was able to express his feelings openly, despite the dampening effect that Dumbledore provoked by his mere presence.

He gazed out at the sea of faces, snorting inwardly on seeing Pansy draping herself over Draco. Would the girl never learn that particular lesson? Or was it an act tailored to deceive? He never had asked, since she hadn't done it over the summer. A mental shrug had him moving on to the next table, then the next, until he had taken a quick look at everyone present.

It was then that the first years were led in by Minerva, looking as nervous as he had felt when he'd first entered the Great Hall as an eleven year old. He grinned more to himself than anything else, keeping a close eye on the children as they reacted to the sorting hat's poetic speech and then faced the sorting process itself.

Eventually everyone was seated at their new tables and Dumbledore stood, causing the hall to fall into silence.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! I have a few start of term announcements for you all. Let me remind all students that the Dark Forest is forbidden for good reason." He paused long enough to shoot a few measuring glances at certain students.

"Mr Filch has posted an updated list of all banned items on his door, so please drop by long enough to acquaint yourselves with the changes. Also, I am pleased to welcome a new teacher to our ranks."

Dumbledore turned slightly and gestured toward Brand.

"Professor Archer has been kind enough to take on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post this year."

A round of applause sounded from the professors with some halting participation by the students. Brand reasoned that the students were getting a bit jaded about the whole thing considering how many people had filled the position of late, but he gave them a cheerful smile and a jaunty little wave nonetheless.

As silence returned Dumbledore remarked, "So! Let the feast begin!" With a clap of his hands, the serving dishes filled with food and drink, and everyone started in.

-----

The first time he had a class with the seventh year Gryffindors was difficult. He clamped down and allowed the Archer mask to prevail; he could not afford to let anything show. Still, it was hard watching them file into the class and seeing the drawn looks on the faces of Ron and Hermione.

He was able to let through a genuine smile in his guise on seeing that Neville also looked awful. Apparently the death of Harry had hit him hard as well, even after all this time. However, he wasn't here for an internal party over the fact that his friends mourned him. He was here to teach a class.

"Good afternoon, everyone," he said amiably from his position seated on the corner of his desk.

"Now that you're settled, who here can tell me what the patronus charm is used for?" Not surprisingly, several hands shot up, most of which belonged to students who had been part of the DA.

"Miss Brown?"

"Its use manifests in a type of guardian, driven by a very strong good memory, used against dementors."

"Five points to Gryffindor. Does anyone else know what a patronus is useful against? Mr Zabini?"

"It can also be used repel lethifolds, though as the target is usually asleep at the time it can often be a moot point."

"Five points to Slytherin. Is anyone here familiar enough with the charm to demonstrate?" The membership from the DA raised their hands.

Brand slipped off his desk and moved behind it. "Miss Granger. Please come up to the front and demonstrate."

She got up and walked forward, then faced the class and raised her wand. "Expecto Patronum!" Mist shot forth from her wand and resolved into a silvery otter, which proceeded to prance around in circles for a handful of breaths before dissipating.

"Excellent, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor. You may remain standing for the moment. I'd like the rest of you to stand as well and you can all use this class period to practice."

Once everyone was up, he pushed the desks against the walls with a wave of his wand, and set about coaching students individually, those that were having difficulty with the charm.

-----

He waited a month before he acted, time enough to settle into the routine of the school and become well established in his persona. Not once had he detected any kind of suspicion. It also gave him plenty of time to submerge himself in Archer's memories, placed into a pensieve prior to his being kissed. In point of fact, it was the only item that Archer had not actually owned. Everything else Brand had brought with him for this position was purloined from the man's home, or purchased at Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade.

In that month he had made it clear he was perfectly neutral to house politics, taking and giving points on a completely fair basis. No one could fault his performance either. The students responded warmly to his genial demeanor, but were well aware by then that fooling about in his classes would bring down his wrath.

It was near the end of a class of NEWT-level Defense for seventh years that he signaled, and was pleased to note that not one of the three knowledgeable students so much as batted an eye. All three signaled back unobtrusively, letting him know they wished to report. Within the next few days he expected to see some form of hijinks occur.

Sure enough, it was two days later when an incident occurred. In a very subtle move, Blaise managed to be in exactly the right position to trip an incoming Gryffindor, making him slide across the floor in a disorganized, and very embarrassed, sprawl.

To add to the 'accident' was the sight of all three Slytherin contacts laughing like maniacs and pointing at the unfortunate soul. Brand immediately took points and assigned all three a detention for the next evening, stating in a voice dripping with disdain that they were far too old to find amusement at someone else's expense.

He contacted Voldemort briefly that evening to check in, focusing his thoughts in a tight beam.

_:Father?:_

_:What is it, son?:_

_:A report is forthcoming, tomorrow evening.:_

_:I will be waiting.:_

The next evening he greeted his erring students with a frown and ordered them to sit, then assigned an essay on magical methods of defense against physical attacks. It was mostly for show, but on the other hand it might teach them something in the process and set a few cogs to spinning.

"When you've completed your essay, kindly bring it to me. Then you may leave."

As they wrote he marked homework he had waiting in a pile. He waited a half hour before he slipped into Draco's mind and ghosted through his surface thoughts. He contemplated what he'd absorbed for a while, continuing to mark essays, and then repeated the process with Pansy and Blaise.

When all three had finished and left he skipped up the steps to his room and closed the door behind him, then went about his normal nighttime routine before slipping into bed. After closing his eyes, he contacted his father, once more focusing his thoughts into a tight beam.

_:Father?:_

_:I'm ready.:_

_:Discreet methods of surveillance have been established within the group on a rotational basis. Inhabitants continue to bemoan the loss of their savior, and in fact, a grave was placed on the grounds, which I find inordinately amusing. Several Slytherins have been discovered as spies and are being carefully watched. Contacts here stand ready for any disinformation you wish to have placed via those means. And, from what I can tell, there is no suspicion whatsoever of the plan.:_

_:Hmmm. Keep an eye on the paper. I'll have to think about this first.:_

_:So be it.:_

_:Good night, son:_

_:Good night, father.:_

-----

As Halloween drew near Dumbledore called a meeting of all teachers in the staff room.

"Thank you for coming. Halloween has traditionally been, over the last few years, a peculiar time with various odd occurrences—that is to say, beyond the norm for this time of the year. Most of you know of what I refer to. Aldren, one of the others can fill you in if necessary. What I'm asking you to do is keep a watchful eye out on the students and the grounds, and when this Hogsmeade weekend just prior comes, to take it in turns to go down while the students are out."

Murmurs of assent went around, though Severus in particular was sporting a nasty scowl. After a short time of wrangling a schedule was worked out and everyone was dismissed. Brand didn't mind, but it did provide an interesting opportunity for mischief just to keep up with new traditions. Shrugging, he caught up with Minerva to see if she was game for a round of chess. Strategy was always a plus, and gaming was one way to see how the minds of your opponents worked.

A few days later Brand was sitting at the Three Broomsticks enjoying a butterbeer. It wouldn't do for students to see a professor of theirs getting drunk on a day off. He really wanted to purchase a snake, but that wouldn't do either. The old fool had too many ears around the school.

He watched his trio of contacts saunter in and take seats at an empty table. Pansy was hanging all over Draco again and getting pushed off, causing Brand to smile despite his irritation at the scene. Maybe it was all an act, but he'd have to check with his father to see if anything had been arranged between them.

Before he had a chance to slide into Draco's surface thoughts he was brought up short by screams outside the building and immediately stood, shooting a quelling glance at the trio before rushing outside. Death Eaters, but no dementors. His father wouldn't send dementors anyway, since a single Patronus would scream of deception, and Brand wasn't about to harm one of their allies unless forced to.

Brand leapt into the fray, driving the dark minions back away from the crowded streets with carefully restrained spellwork. Just as it seemed that he might completely overcome them a blinding light erupted throughout the area, darkening his vision and causing him to stumble to the ground.

Within moments he was surrounded by a crowd of shoppers and pulled to his feet, then strong hands guided him back to the Three Broomsticks and to a chair. He heard more chairs being scooted across the floor and the sound of several people seating themselves.

"All right, who do I have for company?"

"Just us, professor," came a slightly shrill female voice.

"We'll stay with you until your vision returns, sir," came a silky male voice.

"They may be gone, but it's probably best we stay in here for the moment anyway, sir."

Brand nodded and ruffled his hair. Play along, play along. "I'm not quite sure what they pulled on me, but it isn't pleasant."

"Looked like a flash bomb, sir, from what little I saw. Enough distraction to escape, anyway."

The staccato click of heels signaled the arrival of Rosmerta, followed by the clink of bottles being placed on the table. Brand started to slide his hand over the surface of the table when his wrist was caught gently and he felt his fingers being wrapped around cool glass.

"Here, professor," came Draco's voice.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy. Better than me knocking one over I suppose." He chuckled. He needed to have a little talk with his father over this one later. A headache was starting to form, throbbing in time to the sparkles of light that were chasing around in his still impaired vision. He stifled a groan, or tried to.

"Are you all right, professor?" came Pansy's breathless query.

"I'll be fine. One of you check quickly to see if everything is clear outside and come back immediately." He flapped his free hand for a moment, then carefully guided his bottle up and tipped it against his mouth to let the fluid flow and give him something else to think about for a few seconds.

He heard Draco speak from what must be a standing position, "It's clear, sir. There's a troop of aurors out there right now."

"Fine. I'd appreciate if you three could assist me back up to the castle and into the infirmary. I'm not sure how long before my sight will return and I've got a horrendous headache now."

Willing hands plucked the bottle from his grip, then helped him to rise to his feet. The two young men guided him out and up to the castle, while Pansy walked in front.


	4. Retribution & Plans

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

* * *

**— 04: Retribution & Plans —**

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_:Father?:_

_:Yes, son.:_

_:I don't mean to whine, but was that flash bomb really necessary? I was blinded for several hours by it.:_

_:What!?:_

_:You heard me. I'm going to have to figure out a way to shield against things like that. Or maybe you can. I'd hate to have that happen again.:_

_:Hmm. Someone is going to feel some pain shortly.:_

_:Don't be too harsh. It wasn't pleasant in the least, but it does serve to prove a point, and they _didn't_ know they'd be up against me. There are things we haven't considered when it comes to defense. Just because I'm nigh well invulnerable doesn't mean I can't be downed temporarily.:_

_:It should have been tested before it was used on you! Fine, fine. I see and concede the point, son. I'll make sure they clear their methods with me before going out on any further raids and _play_ with them a little to get the point across.:_

_:Thank you, father. I'll talk to you la—wait. I almost forgot. I've only been in the Chamber once. Do you know if there are ways into it from outside the castle?:_

_:I . . . don't remember. I'll have to sift through my memories. Isn't there any way you can get down there personally?:_

_:I'm not sure I should risk it. You know the old coot has eyes everywhere and he isn't fooled by invisibility.:_

_:I'll think on it, then, and get back to you. I assume you're thinking of ways to infiltrate that won't be warded?:_

_:Precisely. I have some ideas on ways to bring down more than one place of power.:_

_:Oh really—more than one?:_

_:Father, you've had complete and total access to my mind. You know I've held nothing back from you that I've been _able_ to share. If I can't reveal something, you can surely figure out the reason why.:_

_:I understand. Let me think on this. Let me know if anything new comes up.:_

_:Good night, father.:_

_:Good night, son.:_

-----

The Christmas holiday arrived all too soon, and not soon enough. Brand was itching to get away for a few weeks and spend time with his father. Using the quite reasonable half truth that he wished to relax in privacy at home while he caught up on his work, he was easily able to apparate back to the estate in a roundabout series of jumps.

It was simply not the same to mentally connect. Being face to face was something he found he missed terribly, so on his first evening back they had dinner in private.

"Father," he began, "I think we should seriously consider bringing Snape into the fold completely."

Voldemort gave him a searching look then nodded. "Is this another one of those things you're prevented from explaining?"

"Yes. I also think I know of a way to seriously rattle the headmaster," he responded with a sly smirk. "Though, I'll need some assistance in the details." He cocked his head to one side briefly.

"If you think it's best. I'll summon Snape here tomorrow. You need to be Brand, though, son."

Brand blushed and transformed. "Sorry, father. I've been in it so long. . . ."

"I understand, and it's to your credit that you've done so well. My question is, if you can tell me: How do you plan to proceed?"

"I am . . . aware . . . of certain details of Snape's life. I can use those in whatever way is necessary." He flicked his eyes toward the ceiling before continuing. "If I can pull this off, then he would be part of the key toward one of our goals. It would be a deception, but only because Harry is dead."

"Son? Just tell me one thing. If what you're planning works, will you be able to explain afterward?"

Brand prevented himself from rolling his eyes in frustration with difficulty and instead closed them and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Not this, no. Only a death would accomplish that, father. I think you've realized that."

"Yes, of course. I should know better than to push what can't be pushed."

"You can trust me when I say that the restrictions hurt. I'm your son now. I would never willingly hold back from you what I know would be of use."

"It's all right. We'll find a way to release you completely."

Brand cast a grateful smile at his father. "Yes, I have faith. You've done so much for me already." He paused, then looked at Voldemort seriously. "I know I've never actually said this, but thank you. For being willing to listen to what I had to say and not just killing me outright. For being willing to adopt me, trusting me. Well, for everything."

His reward was a brilliant smile.

The next day Severus Snape came to visit, summoned by his father. After a very brief set of greetings with Voldemort, he was bidden to wait for the heir.

Brand swept in wearing his ceremonial robes, making them billow out behind him impressively, and seated himself in his father's chair with a flourish.

"So," he began with a cool tone, "you do well to answer the summons, Severus."

Snape replied in an even voice, "Yes, my lord."

"I'm sure you're wondering _why_ you were summoned, so I'll get down to business." He leaned back in the chair and propped his legs on the desk, ankles crossed.

Snape merely nodded in response.

"You see, I know exactly what you're up to, Severus, and the . . . shall we say . . . duality of your situation."

Snape's eyes glittered dangerously but he did not speak.

Brand smirked at him and waved his hand airily. "I'm aware of a lot of things, Severus. But what I don't know is what you'll do. What will you choose, hm? Your precious Order, or us?"

"I am our lord's spy, my lord, within the Order."

"Don't lie to me," Brand shot back tersely. "You are a traitor, Severus, and that warrants your death."

Snape twitched minutely.

"I wouldn't get any bright ideas about trying to leave, Severus. I am far more powerful than you can imagine."

"I fail to understand why you would possibly think that, my lord," Snape said with admirable composure.

"Really," he drawled. "Then perhaps this will help. Visited the House of Black recently?"

Snape flinched visibly. "I see. What do you plan on doing with me, then?" He sounded defeated and resigned.

"More to the point is what you plan on doing, Severus. I'm perfectly willing to give you a choice. If you do anything stupid in this room, though, I will kill you and be done with it."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Snape said gratingly.

Brand snorted and flicked his hair back. "Father and I understand each other perfectly, my dear man, and he trusts my judgment. And with that understanding comes the realization that things don't have to be the way they've been. I'm sure even _you_ have noticed the changes over the past year or so. Have you been tortured lately? I think not."

His feet hit the floor with a loud thud and he got up and leaned against the desk. "My dear Severus, let's talk about choice. We will have you willingly or not at all, so let me explain to you what that actually means. After we are finished talking you will be allowed to return to the school, unharmed. You will not be summoned for any reason until the summer has begun. It is within that time frame that you must make your choice."

Brand pushed away from the desk and started to slowly circle the room as he spoke. "To that end, you have my assurance that no raids will be staged. Indeed, nothing of any note will occur, so that when questioned by your . . . contact . . . about events, you can report truthfully. This is my gift to you. If, when you return to us, you choose to leave, I will remove the mark of your service and send you on. It will be up to you at that point to explain what happened to your fellows, or to flee to a new life, whatever suits your fancy."

He completed his prowling circuit of the room and moved back to the desk, seating himself on the edge and casting a serious, though compassionate look at Severus. "However, if you choose to come to us fully and without reserve I will do my utmost to see that you are placed in a position that suits you in both strengths and desires. For example, if you wished to continue your professorship at the school, so be it. Indeed, it may come to more than that, though I can hardly be more specific at this time."

He brought one leg up and placed his foot flat on the desk, wrapping a forearm on his knee. "There are other considerations, though. Advanced training of any sort you might wish would be one. Also, I am not unaware of your predilections. With us you would have the opportunity to openly choose for yourself a suitable male companion, much as I myself plan to do when the seventh years have graduated, for I have my eye on two likely candidates even as we speak."

Snape was staring at him with open-mouthed shock by then, which made Brand smile sweetly. He slipped off the desk and stood before the Potions teacher, his face only a few inches away, and raised a hand to gently nudge the man's jaw back up.

"Let it be understood, of course, that any companion you may choose will have finished their schooling and will not be forced into the association. I will not tolerate the subjugation of another's will on this matter. It must be mutual or not at all. So you see, things are not what they were, and we can provide you with much—"

Brand was cut off as Severus abruptly leaned into him and pressed his lips to Brand's, flicking his tongue questioningly. Brand willingly opened his mouth and pulled the man into a searing kiss of battling, aggressive tongues and stinging bites to the lower lip. Once he'd reduced Severus to weak-kneed existence, he pulled away and sat down on the desk, flashing a charming smile.

"A test for me? I cannot fault your methods. Just remember, though—I am not to be yours. Severus, you have leave to depart back to the school. You will be contacted once summer begins. If you choose to disappear before that time, know that you are a dead man. You have nothing to fear by appearing, you have my word."

A quick gesture opened the door, causing Snape to straighten into his customary visage. He dropped to one knee briefly, then rose and left without another word. Brand heaved a huge sigh and stood and faced the fire. Moments later he felt arms snaking around him from behind, pulling him close, and a heated trail of wet kisses down the side of his neck before being turned into yet another passionate, and skillful, kiss.

The scent of the one who held him was very familiar and he responded despite his confusion, hearing himself moan with pleasure, at which point he was gently pushed back. He opened his eyes to gaze into his father's. "Father?"

"I had to see what the attraction was all about. Do forgive me." Voldemort stepped back further and smirked.

Brand rolled his eyes and sat in his father's chair, tossing one leg over the arm. "Honestly. It's not like we're related by blood, but still. . . ."

Voldemort made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "That isn't why I came here, in any case. It was a spur of the moment action. I came here to tell you that you're amazing. A half hour with that man and he's eating out of your hand. I would bet money he'll join us when he's been summoned."

"You know I don't like to coerce people. If he's to be here, it should be willingly."

Voldemort nodded. "So, the Order of the Phoenix and their headquarters. How very interesting. Yes, I was watching the entire encounter, as you suspected I might. I will back off on anything that would contradict what you told Snape. I and the inner circle will use that time to prepare strategy for removing a certain old fool from the picture."

"Thank you, father. I'm not sure I should have promised what I did, but that's what came out. I hope you aren't angry." He bit his lip.

Voldemort shook his head and smiled. "No, I've seen the kind of results your methods produce."

-----

Brand, or rather Aldren, was ensconced back in his room at the castle, reading muggle fiction simply because it intrigued him. Some authors had very interesting ideas on what constituted magic and what was within the realm of possible, so he felt it behooved him to reads books of that nature. It might give him valuable ideas.

The sun slowly sank, and with it dragged down the light, rippling through pastels and into blood before all disappeared in favor of the treacherous light of the moon and stars. Brand closed his book and slipped into bed. It would be some time before they could move forward again. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep.

Despite that, the months rolled by more quickly than Brand could have imagined. Students outside Slytherin were identified as leaning toward Voldemort and noted even as spies within the house were closely watched and carefully allowed to discover or overhear disinformation.

Brand caught Snape lost in introspection more than once as the months passed and took that as a good sign. He could have easily ghosted the man's thoughts without being detected, but had declined to do so every time. It wouldn't be right, not under the circumstances.

During the last days Brand prepared quietly. Dumbledore would be called away on an important matter, he knew, even as the students were boarding the train to return to London. He would have a chance to do a little exploration before he, too, packed up his belongings and returned home. As soon as the headmaster was away, Brand was headed toward Myrtle's bathroom cloaked with invisibility.

Entering, he made a quick check of the room and could not discern her presence. He stepped quickly to the entrance to the chamber and hissed, "_Open,_" watching as things shifted and rearranged to reveal the tunnel he remembered from before. He quickly placed a glamour over the opening, then sealed the door to the bathroom as an additional measure. With that taken care of he jumped.

It took several hours to explore and map the normal parts of the Chamber, including many of the tunnels which led off from it. Blank memory-strand sendings were released with instructions to return when their mapping was complete so that Brand could update his version of the Marauder's Map. His, however, wasn't spelled in parchment, but rather took the form of a floating display that only he could see. The returned sendings simply merged into what he explored personally, forming a more complete map.

Eventually he was ready for the most obvious of tasks, the mouth of the statue of Salazar. For that he also used a sending to spy out the territory, waiting anxiously for it to return as he checked every few minutes to see if Dumbledore had come back to the school. When it returned he was overjoyed with the results; the tunnel not only led to the basilisk's lair, but to the outside world, well beyond the confines of the school grounds. He had found a way in; his father never had gotten back to him about his earlier question on that subject.

Quickly he returned to the sloping tunnel that led up to the bathroom and checked the area thoroughly. A hissed command resulted in a slow grating noise from far above, and another with the same. It would be all right. Brand levitated himself upward and along the curving passageway, stumbling slightly when he landed back in the castle proper.

He suppressed his jubilation fiercely; working fast he closed the Chamber entrance and removed the glamour, then unsealed the door and headed for his room. The next thing he did was to pack up everything Archer owned and return the room to its original state. With one last look around, Brand gathered up his things and left the castle wards, then apparated to Archer's home. Dumbledore might be expecting that for once he could have the same Defense professor two years in a row, but that just wouldn't be possible.

Belongings were unpacked and replaced, with the exception of the pensieve and those things that Brand had purchased personally, and the house gradually took on the look it had when its owner had been living here. Once he was finished, he initiated contact.

_:Father?:_

_:I'm here.:_

_:I'm done. He can be brought back and the attack staged. I'll leave as soon as the advance group arrives and return to the estate.:_

_:Remember to switch back before they come. I don't want any mistakes.:_

_:I will do that now, and be home shortly, father.:_

After a few moments of intense concentration Brand stepped in front of a mirror. Gods but he was handsome. He smirked and stepped away, pacing the room until the sounds of others brought his head up. He waited until every person in the advance group had kneeled, then nodded and apparated back to the estate. His first thought was to gain his rooms as quickly as possible and fling himself onto the bed so he could completely relax for the first time in months. So he did.

The next morning he breakfasted with his father.

"—summons. He should arrive shortly."

"You've instructed the house elves to direct him to the study again?"

Voldemort nodded and forked some eggs into his mouth. After a moment he said, "I hope that he chooses well."

"I think he will. As I'm done, I'll go await his arrival. I'll talk with you a little later, father. Oh, and that article about Archer was interesting." Brand stood and crossed to the other side of the table, placed a gentle kiss on Voldemort's cheek, then left.

Not long after, when he was seated in his father's chair with his feet propped on the desk, Severus was shown in. Brand waved him to a chair once he had knelt briefly and smiled.

"Hullo, Severus. Good to see you again. Have you come to a decision?" There was no sense in beating around the bush. If Snape wanted out then Brand wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Yes, I have, my lord," said Snape with a smile, which would have been enough to make any other person recoil in horror.

"Brilliant. What'll it be, then?"

"I choose you, my lord."

"Even better. Would you be willing to help train some people, then? Last summer was the first session, but they're coming back again in a few days for more advanced courses. Potions, Defense, Dark Arts, whatever. I've already picked out the three best from the last batch, but we'll have a new influx, too."

"Who were the best, my lord?"

"I don't think it will be much of a surprise. Malfoy, Zabini, and Parkinson, two of which I have my eye on personally, though. . . ." He trailed off with a thoughtful look. "I think I'll be able to tell soon which one I prefer. Or should I say, which one prefers me?" Brand looked back up. "Any objections, then, to staying the summer? We really would need you here. And, did you want to continue on at Hogwarts?"

"None whatsoever. And yes, I think I would, my lord. I trust—" Severus stopped abruptly, then said, "Rather, I hope that something will soon be done about. . . ?"

Brand angled his head to the side. "Absolutely. Now, before we get too cozy with each other, there are some things I need to say. You say you're in. Fine. But you _will_ be watched. I am extending you a great trust at this point, considering _who_ you are. When that trust has actually been earned, the watchers will be gone. Though, I suppose it's best to not bother mentioning when that happens. I'm sure you understand. Regardless, we are going to act as though you truly mean what you say, and work outward from there."

"My lord, I would expect nothing less."

"You are indeed wise. So. . . ."

They talked for quite a while, going over what the incoming students would be doing and training in, until it was noon. At that point, Brand led Severus down to the dining room for lunch with his father. If nothing else it became crystal clear to Snape—in this case Brand did snoop—that Voldemort really did consider Brand his equal.

Several days later, the students arrived.

-----

"Those of you who are new here, please wait in the adjacent garden. Attempts to enter this space once you have exited will result in excruciating pain. If you choose not to believe that statement, be my guest. You'll find out soon enough what my words are worth."

Brand stood there, arms crossed, and waited with an intense look on his face. Eventually, the last of the newcomers straggled off, shooting glances back over their shoulders as they rounded the high hedges. Brand rolled his eyes and then turned his attention back to the students who had been at the estate the year before, some of whom were openly laughing.

He settled himself in a white ironwork chair and said, "This year you will have the opportunity to get more advanced training. You will need to get with me or Professor Snape today to discuss where your strengths lie, and to be tested. Those of you who will be returning to school will receive special training and instructions near the end of the summer to prepare you for the upcoming year.

"Those of you who have completed your formal education will be handled in a somewhat different manner. Whether or not you'll be moving into jobs is one of the things that must be determined, as opposed to staying here for a much longer, far more intense course of training, though all of you will be regular visitors to the estate. You _are_ here because you've proven your loyalty and dedication, and if that changes at any time, I assure you, I _will_ find out, so it's better if you simply come to me before I'm forced to confront you.

"Now that the threats are out of the way, take some time to talk to Professor Snape about what interests you while I go introduce myself properly to the others." Brand rose and headed through the gap in the hedges, snorting when he found several unconscious bodies sprawled on the grass.

-----

His meeting with the new students had gone well enough. Some were of quality material; those who were hopeless were obliviated and sent home. He hadn't been surprised that some of them washed out almost immediately. He had spent a lot of time with Draco, Blaise, and Pansy, delving into their minds. It became quickly apparent that Draco had absolutely no interest in Pansy, but was indeed bound by a pureblood wizarding contract to the girl, who naturally acted as though water on stone would wear the boy down and eventually see him capitulate to her desires.

Blaise, he had discovered, was harboring quite an infatuation for Severus, and Brand had every intention of seeing if that would work itself out. Draco, on the other had, harbored a genuine degree of admiration and respect for Brand, not to mention a seething whirlpool of lust and desire hidden beneath his usually calm mask.

Well and so. The boy still needed to produce an heir for his line, even as Brand did. Perhaps the girl could be persuaded of the necessity of it being a role only. If she proved to be difficult, regardless of her worth, she would be dealt with. Brand hadn't given up his original life to be balked now. He shrugged and headed toward the dining room to have lunch with Severus.

"Severus?"

"Yes, my lord?"

Brand rolled his eyes at the necessity and trailed his fingers back through his hair. "I know something you don't, perhaps."

Severus arched a brow enquiringly as Brand smirked.

"Tell me, Severus—how do you feel about young Blaise?" he asked, and was rewarded by Severus's brows shooting upward. "Maybe you should . . . talk to him."

"If you think so, my lord," came the neutral response.

Brand threw back his head and laughed. "Oh yes, I do think so."


	5. Consorts

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

* * *

**— 05: Consorts —**

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Later on Brand cornered Draco and led him up to his father's study, sealing the door behind them. He dropped onto the desk in a casual pose, gesturing for Draco to take the visitor's chair.

He focused on the icy blond for a few moments before speaking. "Draco, there's something we need to discuss."

Draco nodded, though it was clear to Brand he didn't have a clue what this was about.

"Regardless of how you may feel about the prospect, you will need to produce an heir for your line. However," he said, holding up one hand to stop Draco from speaking, "that does not mean the union will be anything more than what you want of it. So I need you to tell me, what is it that you want?"

"My lord, I. . . ."

"Don't worry, Draco. I'm not going to take offense at anything you might say. Just talk to me."

Draco took a deep breath and tried again. "I understand the necessity of an heir, my lord, but I don't particularly see Pansy that way. I'll do it if it's required of me, but only because it is. She seems to think that given enough time I'll feel about her the way she thinks she feels about me. Well I won't."

"Understood. Is this about Pansy, or about women in general?" he asked, trying to force the issue into the open.

Draco frowned and dropped his eyes.

"Would it help you to answer if I told you I was gay?"

Draco's head snapped back up with a look of open shock in his eyes.

"Yes, I am. That's one of things _we_ don't give a damn about, father and I. I can only assume your father said nothing about that last gathering, when I was introduced. In fact, you could say the realization for me was a turning point in my life. The rest of the wizarding world might consider it disgusting and vile, but _we_ understand that it happens, and it wouldn't happen if it weren't a part of nature. So, I'll ask again: Is this about Pansy or about women in general?"

"Women in general," came the subdued voice.

"I'm glad that's out in the open. Pansy will either accept her role in this, or be dealt with. I won't allow her to continue this obsession any longer. Don't get me wrong, Draco. I'd like her to be happy, since she can be a valuable asset to us. If I thought, and I'll have to check, that she'd be happy with another woman, then things would end up a great deal simpler, but that would be too much to hope for."

"I'm not sure I follow you, my lord."

Brand pushed off the desk and leaned against it instead, looking deeply into Draco's eyes. "That's up to you, Draco."

"My lord, I don't understand."

Brand snorted and gripped the edge of the desk with his hands. "I'm not made of ice, you know."

After a few minutes of silence Brand sighed and straightened. "Fine. There's more than one way to handle things. You trust me don't you, Draco?"

The blond nodded, once again mystified.

Brand raised his left hand and gestured, eliciting a gasp from Draco as a incandescent sphere appeared in his hand. Muttering under his breath, Brand pushed it toward Draco, watching as it impacted soundlessly on his forehead and sunk in.

"What was that, my lord?"

"Simple. It's not unlike the fidelius charm, except that it's limited to a very specific set of circumstances, under the control of the caster. Whatever we say or do after this point, up until I unseal the door, will be something you will not be able to speak of with anyone except me. Ever."

"For what reason?"

Brand threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. It was obvious that regardless of what was lurking in the blond's mind, he would never actively step past the fact that Brand was Voldemort's heir and make a first move.

"As I said, it's up to you. And as for the reason, I'll show you."

He stepped closer to the blond, then straddled him, pushing his hands into the silky mass of hair. Slowly, so slowly that Draco could draw away, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against his prey's, then darted his tongue between them teasingly.

After nibbling the young man's lower lip he traced a line of soft kisses across his face and down onto Draco's neck, where he began nipping and savaging the young man's soft skin with remarkable restraint until a moan broke loose from his prey. He carefully pulled away and stood, then walked to the door.

"Like I said, I'm not made of ice. Think about it, Draco. Take your time, let me know." Then he unsealed the door, opened it and left.

-----

"Father? There's something I want to talk to you about. Well, show you actually. May I?"

Voldemort nodded and sat back.

Brand closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, then sent his father a copy of the memory he had of the conversation with Draco. Voldemort was silent for several minutes.

"I see the dilemma. Miss Parkinson needs to be spoken with either way. I suggest having Severus talk to her. He seems to be coming along quite well. If she fails to see reason, manipulate her memories to make sure she'll behave. If the boy is what you want, and he's agreeable, then you shall have him."

Brand grinned and brushed back his hair, then sobered. "Oh. I'm such an ass. With all that's been going on, I completely forgot to tell you." He smiled sheepishly. "The Chamber does have an outside entrance, and I've got the whole area mapped out."

"Excellent work. If nothing else it gives us a way to check how the wards are constructed. It isn't often that the old fool leaves the school."

"Mmm. There's something else I should take care of first, though. A little present, shall we say." The red flecks in Brand's eyes glittered for a moment. "Perhaps Severus will assist me with that task. He's the only one who can, actually."

"By all means, see to it. Incidentally, I'm pleased that as many non-Slytherin students are here."

"Yes, though it seems rather odd. I'll have to do a little sifting to see what's really on their minds and what kind of people they are."

Voldemort nodded again. "Do so, then. Keep me informed of anything interesting. When the summer dies we'll start our new campaign, so get any of the incidentals out of the way."

Brand rose and dropped a kiss on his father's head, then left.

-----

"Severus, follow me," Brand said as he walked by, headed toward the garden. He lowered himself to the grass and laid back, placing one arm across his eyes to shield them from the brightly shining sun.

"What is it, my lord?" came the question.

His voice tended to make one think of luxurious fabrics dusted with exotic spices. Maybe it had something to do with the man's strengths, who knew? "I need your help. Willing help, that is. There's a certain place I wish to destroy."

"This has to do with. . . ." Severus began before trailing off uncertainly and glancing around.

"Don't worry, I already warded this part of the garden. No one will hear us, or even come here. Rather like muggle-repelling charms in a way."

"Noted, my lord. Does this have to do with headquarters, then?"

"Indeed it does. What do you think of that?"

"If you or your father think it necessary, I would be glad to assist, my lord. Though, I still have no idea _how_ you know of the place."

Brand rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his arm, staring directly into Severus's eyes. "Well, give me a moment and I'll explain," he said lightly. In his free hand he created another ball of incandescent light and pushed it toward his companion, muttering under his breath until it impacted.

Once Severus opened his eyes he continued, "For one, what we speak of or do now, until I release the wards on this area, is something you'll never be able to speak of or share except with me, ever, which allows me now to include you in a little secret. And, to simplify things, stop calling me 'my lord' while we're talking for now. Once this conversation is over, it'll have to go back to the way it was."

Brand smiled for a moment. "For two, I know you witnessed a very dead Harry Potter because I was there. What you don't know is that I have every memory of that boy, and I know why he was captured, and why he was killed. You also didn't know that it was planned for you to rescue the boy's friends from the start. Granted, we did assist, but your execution of the accomplishment was quite cunning. My compliments."

"I don't understand."

"Of course not. You see, I _was_ Harry Potter. I helped to orchestrate his death." Brand smiled again as the professor's face blanched more than he'd thought possible.

"You can see how I know what I know. That's why I'm asking for your assistance with a little mayhem and destruction, Severus. And I do mean _asking_. I won't force you into something you'd rather not do. That simply isn't my way and it wouldn't bode well for people's trust in me if I did. If all you ever want to do is teach, or make potions for us, or whatever, then that's what you'll do. I cannot force people into doing things I'd rather not do myself, so to each his own. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I think I do. I think for the first time I'm beginning to understand that appearances mean nothing and that I've been a fool for far too long."

Brand grinned engagingly and brushed his hair back. "Will you help me?"

Severus started to open his mouth before snapping it shut again and frowning.

"You want to know why, correct?"

Severus nodded.

"When that old fool found out I was gay he placed a charmed bracelet on me which tried to force me to compliance with so-called 'normal' desires." Brand rolled his eyes. "I knew then that I really was nothing more than a pawn in his particular game to win out. The pain wasn't so bad, I suppose. I was used to pain, after all."

He smiled again at the look on the other man's face. "After being notified that if I didn't plaster a fake smile on my face and play the happy hero, I did a lot of thinking and came to a decision. Luckily, father was curious enough to go along with my plan, and now here I am, so to speak. Basically, I found a way to sidestep the prophecy about me and father. Anyway, back to the real topic at hand. Will you help me?"

"Yes," Severus replied somewhat ruefully. "How could I not after you tearing the blinders from my eyes?"

Brand smirked a little and patted the other man's knee reassuringly. "We all have to grow up sometime, Severus. Speaking of which, have you talked to Blaise?"

"A little. How do I know he's even interested?"

"Oh, but he is. I don't need spells to sift people's minds," he said, then held up his hand at the look on Severus's face. "Though that doesn't mean I poke around where it's not needed. Occlumency won't help, by the way, though you can try if you'd like. You remember Professor Archer, I presume?"

Another nod followed by a suspicious look.

Brand flicked his eyes toward the sky for a moment, then looked back at Severus as Archer. He gave a jaunty wave and switched back to his normal form, laughing.

"I ghost surface thoughts when necessary, as I did during the year to receive reports from the contacts I had within the school. However, when I _must_ I can dig much, much deeper. Suffice to say, I saw more than a report on a few occasions from our dear young Blaise, so I suggest you try, if you _want_ to, to drop a few hints around him and see how he responds. That's all. And for the record, after I made my offer to you, I never once ghosted your thoughts to see what you were thinking at the school. " He smiled genially.

"I'll take that under advisement."

"Since I need you to be aware of certain things, there's more I need to talk to you about. Even if you do decide to betray us at some point in the future, nothing and no one will ever glean this knowledge from your mind. No, don't protest. It _could_ happen, and I'm not so naïve as to think it couldn't. I don't believe it will, but one must be prepared nonetheless."

Brand rolled over onto his back again and shielded his eyes. "Destroying headquarters would be nothing more than a warning. The only problem with doing it is that it will bring down suspicion on current Order members as to one being a traitor. Unfortunately, as you're a known spy, that suspicion may fall on your head alone with people thinking you've double-crossed your allegiances. I've been trying to figure out how to get around that."

A few minutes of silence ensued before Brand rolled back onto his side. "I've got the most scathingly brilliant idea." (1)

"Oh?"

"Oh, yes," he said before laughing maniacally. "Oh, yes, I do indeed. Dumbledore must die. By my hand alone. The old fool may have tricks up his sleeve that caused father annoyance, but what I have in mind. . . . Even if I can't trap the bastard, I will have ruined his reputation and eroded public trust. I'm not much for killing people, Severus, but this is one time I would."

"What is it that you have in mind?"

Brand laughed again and reached out to pat the other man's knee. "No, I don't think I'll tell, but only because I want to see your true reaction when the time comes. Consider it another present, if you will. Hmm, perhaps I should not bother with headquarters, then. I'm still not sure the risk is worthwhile."

"It is likely that should headquarters be attacked, then yes, suspicions will rise, and I would not put it past Dumbledore to subject everyone to truth serum."

"It can wait, then, if at all. I'm much more interested in a little well deserved retribution anyway. Well, obviously it will have to wait until the summer is over at the earliest. I can't very well destroy the man without an appropriate audience, now can I?"

Severus unbent enough to grin, causing Brand to laugh again merrily.

"You need to smile more often, Severus. Oh, yes, before I forget—I need you to find time to speak to Pansy about her obsession with Draco. If she can't be convinced to back down, let me know. All right, I'll let you go for now. Try not to terrorize the students too much." Brand pulled himself to his feet and gestured, then jogged out of sight.

-----

It was several weeks before anything interesting happened aside from training sessions with the students, some of whom had already been sent home with memory modifications for what lay hidden in their minds, and others for their ineptness or lack of ability. Brand had finally worked out a new spell, if one could call it that, which would allow him to completely shield the minds of their people from betraying secrets and restricted their unguarded speech off the estate, and then constructed a contracted version of an obscure language to be used in the field.

Naturally, the first people to be so blessed were the inner circle, which included Severus by then, along with the three top students. As it took a lot out of Brand to perform, people who had proven loyal were handled in batches of three until everyone was protected. None of the students returning to Hogwarts were marked.

After a short conversation with Severus, Brand went to deal with Pansy, which took up all of the remaining morning and well into the afternoon. He sent her on her way when he was done and dragged himself to his favorite place on the estate, laying down on a bed of thick, springy moss in the shade of a massive oak tree, and fell asleep to the gentle sounds of the babbling brook nearby.

The sun was setting when he awoke to the feeling of fingers combing through his hair. He shifted slightly to see what would happen, but the fingers kept moving slowly.

"I know you're awake, my lord."

Brand opened his eyes to meet those of silvery-grey.

"I thought about what you said, and I appreciate that you've never pressured me in any way, my lord."

Brand smiled and shifted again, this time moving so that his head was resting in Draco's lap, and closed his eyes again and purred, "I took care of Pansy for you today."

A slight hitch in breathing was the only response, and the fingers never stopped in their movements. "I'd like to be with you, my lord," Draco said softly a short time later.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my lord. Very."

Brand slowly pulled away from Draco and rose to his feet gracefully, extending a hand to help the blond up. "Come with me, then."

Keeping his hand clasped with Draco's, Brand led the way to his personal suite, adjusting the wards as he neared them. Once in his sitting room he had Draco sit in a comfortable chair and then sat on the arm.

"I'm going to mark you, but not with the Dark Mark. It's a special mark, meant for a potential consort. I won't make it permanent until we're both ready for it. Are you comfortable?"

The blond nodded decisively.

"Before I start . . . do you want the mark in a noticeable place, or one that can easily be hidden?"

"I leave it up to you, my lord."

Brand nodded and placed his hand on Draco's neck, barely touching the skin, then concentrated on placing the image in his mind into the flesh beneath his fingers. A single silver point appeared and began to trace a thin line, gradually completing a depiction of an oak tree with a crown nestled within its foliage. He drew back his hand and stood, looking down at Draco with a gentle smile. "All done. That's it."

"I didn't feel anything, my lord," came the confused reply.

"You weren't supposed to," he said, grinning.

"May I go look, my lord?"

"Of course. There are mirrors just through there. While you're admiring yourself, I'll create a connecting door to the next set of rooms. You'll be moving there shortly. We'll talk in a few minutes, okay?"

The door was easy enough to make. Barely a moment's thought, really. Summoning a house elf to transfer Draco's belongings took far longer. By the time the blond returned to the sitting room, everything had been arranged.

Brand gestured to the new door and said, "Through there is your suite. The third floor is off-limits to anyone except myself, father, you, and of course the house elves. Anyone else and . . . well, you saw what happened to that fool last summer. You're welcome to decorate in any way you please or request anything you'd like to make you more comfortable. I suggest you contact your father to make arrangements for any belongings you want from Malfoy Manor. Dinner will be soon, so why don't you get changed and meet me back here when you're ready."

Once alone he shrugged on a set of robes that almost matched his hair, being several shades darker and slightly iridescent. He hadn't missed the look on Draco's face when he'd explained the new living arrangements, but details would have to wait until later. After a quick glance in the mirror he kicked off his trainers and slipped into a pair of expensive Italian shoes, and was just finishing lacing them when Draco reappeared.

"Please follow me," he said, standing and exiting the room, then leading the way to the dining room down the corridor.

-----

Brand collapsed onto his sofa gratefully and closed his eyes, patting the spot beside him. Dinner had gone well enough; Draco had been only a little nervous, otherwise masking his emotions well. He'd perfect that in time. It hadn't helped Brand that his father kept making salacious comments into his mind at the worst possible moments, causing more than a few quickly hidden looks of puzzlement from the blond.

He felt Draco's weight displace the cushions and snaked an arm around him, pulling him closer.

"My lord?"

"Draco, when we're in here, or your rooms, you have permission to drop the formalities. Well, unless father is present. He might get testy otherwise."

"Why _are_ there separate rooms?"

Brand could almost feel the frown marring the blond's perfection and he chuckled.

"You said you'd like to be with me, but I don't own you. You have your own rooms and the mark is temporary because we've yet to find out if there's more to us than . . . wishes and desires. If I fall in love with you, and you with me, then we'll take the next steps."

He opened his eyes and looked over. "You didn't really think I'd drag you into my bed immediately, did you? I have more respect for myself and you to do that. If I didn't pressure you before, I sure as hell won't do so now."

"All right. Why were you muttering the whole way back here, then, and making such odd faces at dinner?"

Brand snickered. "My father has a perverted sense of humor. He was teasing me on and off the whole time."

"Not to sound stupid but . . . how?"

Brand tapped his forehead and shrugged. "Call it telepathy. It's rare."

"How did you. . . ?"

"Do?"

The blond squirmed uncomfortably.

"Draco, I can see into your mind, but I'd rather not. Just ask. I won't answer if I can't, okay?"

"How did you . . . change him?"

"Hm. Hold on a moment."

_:Father?:_

_:Yes?:_

_:He wants to know how I changed you, affected you. You're different now, obviously. Do I have your permission to explain? I'll prevent him sharing any of it.:_

_:If you think it will help. Just be cautious.:_

_:Thank you, father.:_

Brand created another sphere and impacted it on Draco's forehead. "The limits to this one are peculiar, Draco. But that's beside the point. I'll try to answer your question." Brand shifted sideways, bracing himself against the arm of the couch, and pulled Draco back against him in a loose hug.

"Father, back when he wasn't, orphaned me a number of years ago. Then again, he orphaned many in those days, even up until fairly recently. The change comes in when we started talking and I shared my story with him. It's hard to hold fast to certain ideals and actions when you realize that what you've essentially done is replicate your own upbringing for any number of others. Since that's what he had managed to do to me. . . . Well, let's just say he started to see things a little differently, especially when he saw how unlike him I was in certain values and morals."

Brand moved his fingers in lazy circles on Draco's chest. "If you can't be honest with yourself, how can you be with others, especially your son? So he changed some. It didn't _have_ to be that way, and there are more ways than one to, as muggles say, skin a cat. Don't get me wrong, the essentials are still a part of father's character. Certain aspects are just . . . tempered by a different outlook. He wouldn't hesitate to kill, maim, or torture if the situation called for it."

Brand trailed one of his hands upward to stroke the soft skin of Draco's neck. "He trusts me because I allow him full access to my mind. I trust him because he hides nothing from me. How about we leave it at . . . I'm a good influence on my father?"

He smiled, placing a kiss on the blond's silky hair. "Does that help?" he asked.

"Yes, actually. I won't pretend to entirely understand, but it helps. I'm sure more when I've had time to assimilate what you've said."

* * *

1. Source: The Trouble With Angels


	6. Revelations & Plans

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

* * *

**— 06: Revelations & Plans —**

* * *

They sat there in comfortable silence for several minutes before Draco spoke up in a confused tone. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, when he wasn't, and when he orphaned you? He isn't your actual father?" He sat up slightly and twisted around to look at Brand. "Just exactly who are you, then?"

Brand bit his lip and considered the question. Just minutes before he'd talked about honesty, and indeed he had often brought up honesty and trust as foundations of his relationship with his father's people. Could he in good conscience _not_ tell Draco who he'd been?

"Someone you once knew, for starters." He arched a brow at Draco's resulting thoughtful expression. "Two someones, actually. Professor Archer was one of them."

"That isn't really a surprise when I think about it, but I expect the real answer would be."

"Yes, I think it would. Well, much as I hate to get advice on this—hold on."

_:Father?:_

_:Yes?:_

_:I'm sorry to disturb you again, but—apparently something I said has Draco questioning who exactly I am, so perhaps I wasn't as cautious as I should have been. I've been trying to decide whether or not to tell him. After all, I've been going on about trust and honesty all this time. I—I can't help but feel guilty at the thought of not coming clean since he wants to know, but I'm not sure how he'll react.:_

_:If it means that much to you, tell him, son. But if he reacts badly, I fully expect you to deal with the problem, regardless of the severity of your response.:_

_:You mean wipe him or kill him.:_

_:Of course.:_

_:As you say, father.:_

When he looked back at Draco there was a slight frown present and a questioning look. He shifted deliberately, moving Draco away from him so he'd be able to look at him clearly.

"All right. Before I tell you my original identity, though, I should caution you. I am willing to tell you because I feel that if we are to move any further along that there should be truth and honesty between us. But if you react badly, I will be forced to act to protect myself and father. And even if you do not react badly, it is not something you will be allowed to use against me, nor share with any other. Given that, do you still wish to know?"

"When you put it like that I begin to have certain suspicions as to the answer. However, as I trust you, I will say yes, I would like to know."

"Then I think I shall tell you now, before you make contact with your father about having taken a potential consort mark." Brand paused deliberately to see if Draco would change his mind at that pronouncement, and when he remained silent, Brand continued. "This isn't easy, you understand. We never did get along back then, and for good reason, I suppose. I'm certainly not as old as I appear to you to be. I'm the same age as you, actually."

Draco's eyes first widened ever so slightly, then narrowed. A look of dawning comprehension suffused his features, but he still did not speak.

"All right. I suppose I'm not usually so damnably coy, so I'll just say it. I am—or rather, I was—Harry Potter."

"But he's—"

"He's what? Dead? A mudblood-loving Gryffindor? Brunette? Too short?"

A slight grin formed on Draco's face, then quickly disappeared. "Dead, of course."

"Why, yes, so he is. I helped kill him myself—in a manner of speaking—and certainly endorsed the idea. As I recall, father was quite enthusiastic about the whole thing."

Draco was concise and to the point. "Why?"

"If you recall, I explained part of that, though certainly not all of it. And if you don't mind a long, boring explanation, I'll give it to you."

Draco arched a brow and assumed an attentive posture.

"I don't know how much you really know about Harry Potter, so I'll give you a condensed version of things. I was raised by my muggle relations—my aunt's family—with absolutely no knowledge of the wizarding world. It was not a happy time for me, if I may understate the case. It wasn't until Hagrid came for me that I had any idea of who I really was. And I must say, Hagrid was quite down on Slytherins in particular, there supposedly being so many of them willing to ally themselves with the darkest and most evil of wizards, Voldemort."

Draco nodded.

"My first friend—I mean that literally—aside from Hagrid was Ron. His mother helped me to get onto the platform for the train, as Hagrid never did explain that part. Ron was a little awed, but kind and friendly, something I'd never really experienced before. And then you came along."

He shot Draco a slightly apologetic look. "You were . . . well, let's just say things didn't go well. I'd already met you at Madam Malkin's and your words were a bit alarming to me. And then on the train. While it was hardly nice of Ron to snicker when he realized who you were, you didn't help matters any, and I found myself not only defending my new friend, but buying into the common thought that Slytherins were quite evil as a whole."

Draco had the grace to look a bit uncomfortable at that point.

"At any rate, time marched on as it tends to do, and we acquired Hermione as a friend after saving her from that mountain troll. So then I'd a rather lax pureblood for a friend, along with a muggleborn. I'm sure you can understand that I'd hold no prejudice against them, seeing as how my own mother was muggleborn."

Brand leaned back into the embrace of the couch and sighed softly. "Fast forward to the end of the year where we three prevented Voldemort from getting what he was after, all in the name of the good fight, on the side of Light. After that, there could be no stauncher or more loyal set of friends. The year after you caused a great deal of trouble for me when you conjured that snake, but I don't blame you specifically for it. And in the years that followed, you did everything you could to be a menace, and we responded in kind. It was—as the nebulous _they_ tend to say—the natural order of things."

Draco nodded again.

"Frankly, knowing you as I do now, I honestly have to wonder at times why you acted the way you did, but that's beside the point. Suffice to say that things progressed as many would expect. But that still doesn't get to the heart of the matter—the reason I switched sides."

Brand paused long enough to snap his fingers. When Maer appeared he requested something to drink, waiting until he'd been able to soothe his throat with butterbeer before continuing his explanation.

"At the end of our fifth year, after I was lured with my friends to the Department of Mysteries and my godfather was killed, I experienced a very bad time with Dumbledore. I was so angry, so hurt, and felt so betrayed. There were so many decisions that had been made, that once made, could not be unmade. So many things Dumbledore could have told me, but didn't. Things that made me act in a certain way, trying to protect my friends and family. And because of it, Sirius died. I still hold a grudge against Bellatrix, truth be told.

"Dumbledore was less than open with me, but he did reveal the prophecy I'd gone after—the prophecy about me and Voldemort. So aside from him, I was the only one to know the contents. Voldemort failed on that score." Brand gave Draco a curious look before saying, "It might interest you to know that it might have been Neville Longbottom in my place." He was rewarded with an incredulous look.

"Anyway, it all fell apart the beginning of sixth year. But before I get to that, I'll explain something from when Voldemort attacked and killed my parents, and tried to kill me. According to Dumbledore—and honestly, I still don't know the truth here—when Voldemort tried to kill me and failed, he transferred some of his powers to me, including the ability to speak Parseltongue. That old fool tells me it was my mother's love that protected me from the killing curse, but I ask you—how many mothers out there have died for their children, and how many of _those_ children survived the killing curse? None."

Brand shrugged and flapped a hand in the air negligently. "Back at school sixth year, I overheard some students who took Muggle Studies talking about how vile it was that a section on homosexuality had been included. I didn't actually know all that much about muggles when you get down to it, and even less about wizarding folk. But as I'd already realized that I was gay, their words really hurt me. I went up to spend time with Hedwig, to talk to her."

He caught the look on Draco's face and responded to it. "Yes, I know. Some people think it's a bit nutty to treat them that way. The point is, I spoke to an entity who could not betray my thoughts, and never realized until later that Dumbledore had been monitoring my every word since I'd come back. He listened, and acted. He chained me, in essence. He placed on me a device which would punish me for harboring 'bad' thoughts, and followed it up with a note later on telling me to buck up or suffer further consequences."

"I do recall," supplied Draco, "there was a time there when you started to withdraw from everything, then suddenly appeared to bounce back. I found it rather suspicious, and even reported it to my father."

Brand grinned a bit at that admission. "It was about then that I realized Dumbledore only monitored words, and the device only monitored certain thoughts and actions. After testing things a bit, I wrote a letter intended for Voldemort and sent it off from Hogsmeade. A while later I had a dream-vision and spoke with him."

Draco blinked. "You—"

"I've been able to experience Voldemort's mind even before he was reborn, Draco, and see through his eyes, feel his emotions. It was the scar that linked us. So I gambled and won. In the dream-vision we talked. I requested to be captured, safe passage, and to be unharmed for the duration of our face-to-face discussion. After that, I didn't much care. I'd rather have been dead than be under Dumbledore's thumb any longer. And so I was captured, along with Ron and Hermione.

"We talked. I showed him the device and let him draw his own conclusions. Voldemort removed it for me, which I thought was terribly nice of him, and I moved into a suite on the third floor. This one, actually. He agreed not to push me into doing things I didn't like, and I agreed to be completely honest with him. Later on I asked if I could be adopted, and he agreed. Magically speaking, I am Brand Riddle, and no test will prove otherwise.

"And if you're wondering about my appearance, or how I became Professor Archer, I'm a metamorphmagus. Rather handy, that." Brand paused again for more butterbeer. "You asked me before about changing him. I did, but I didn't. And it's true that my childhood was somewhat similar to his, and I turned out much differently for it. I guess it just makes a person wonder, and think. So, that's the capsule version of events."

Another sip and another look at Draco showed a thoughtful expression. "Since you already know I can tell exactly what you're thinking I needn't ask you to say what's on your mind, but I would prefer to hear it."

"I find it all rather funny, actually," Draco stated candidly. "I hated and despised the symbol, but found I liked the person underneath the hype. It's like insisting you don't like a certain food, never having tasted it, but when forced to try it blindfolded, you realize there's a great deal you never understood, nor made the effort to investigate. Add to that that I really didn't agree with a number of things our lord was doing, but honestly thought he was the better choice. I've never quite trusted Dumbledore, the obvious things aside. He's quite sly and sneaky, and as much as he gave Professor Snape leeway to let us cause trouble, he exacted revenge for it in cruel ways. I am . . . relieved . . . now."

"And us?"

"I would be a fool to change my decision now. The only thing that's changed is I have a little more information than I did before. It doesn't alter the fact that I admire, respect, and trust you, not to mention, er . . . like you."

"Well, since you seem to have a flair for the dramatic, perhaps you'd like to sit in on a discussion with father about dealing with Dumbledore. I already know what I'd like to do, but I need to clear it with him first. You may be able to add to my original plans."

"I'd be delighted."

Brand could sense no deception in Draco through all of his words, and his body language was backing that up. It was as well that Draco would be unable to reveal the information he'd been given to anyone. Brand thought, after a moment of contemplation, that there was no real threat in proceeding and letting Draco contact his own father about what he wanted from the Malfoy Manor.

And in the morning, or perhaps for lunch, they could meet with Voldemort.

"In that case, why don't you get some sleep. I know I'm tired. Tomorrow we can get started on specifics." Brand leaned forward, slowly, and was pleased when Draco did likewise. After a moment's hesitation, they kissed—more of an expression of beginnings than anything of passion—and it was sweet.

-----

They breakfasted in Brand's room and afterward Draco was left to his own devices after being reminded he could summon Maer at any time. Brand wandered off to find his father to talk about lunch.

After slinging himself into a chair carelessly he said, "I was thinking that we could have a little chat about Dumbledore. I realize that you and your inner circle were working on neutralizing or killing him, but I have my own ideas on that matter. I also thought it might be interesting to see what Draco could contribute to the plan."

His father graced him with a smile. "If you wish. I allow I am quite curious to hear what's on your mind. I assume Draco is even now contacting Lucius?"

Brand nodded. "He took the revelation quite well. I daresay it tickled his sense of the absurd. I only wonder how Lucius will react upon learning his son is marked as my mate."

Voldemort appeared to consider that, passing a hand over his brow and pushing back a stray lock of hair. "From a power standpoint, quite well. From a personal one, I cannot be sure. After all, Draco is his only heir. Finding out that the boy is not suited for a normal marriage may cause him some degree of consternation."

"Would that be a problem?"

"Absolutely not. I didn't go to the trouble of breaking him out of Azkaban for him to give me further grief. He may make the occasional mistake, but he is not a fool."

Brand grinned. "Shall we see you for lunch, then?" When Voldemort nodded Brand bounced out of his chair to kiss his father's head, then went off to see what Severus was up to.

He found him in the garden along with Draco. Both gave him a welcoming smile as he approached, ignoring for the moment the shocked looks of some of the students milling around. Once Brand had seated himself he made a dismissing gesture to everyone but his two companions and was gratified to see immediate obedience to his wish.

"I'm surprised Blaise isn't here with you," he said, helping himself to a bottle of butterbeer and making a discreet movement with his other hand out of sight.

Severus shot him a sideways look, but it was Draco who spoke with laughter in his voice. "He wanted to spend time in the library. There are a number of books in there he was practically salivating over."

Brand smirked and nodded. "So, Draco, you will be having lunch with me and my father. Severus, you know what it's about, but as I said I want your reaction to be genuine so you'll forgive me if you aren't invited to this one."

"I understand, my lord."

Brand noticed that Draco gave the barest of twitches at the appellation. "Were you able to contact your father?" he asked him.

"Yes, my lord. I sent off a message after you left. I hope to hear from him soon."

"Splendid. Severus, as you're going to be our only contact within the school we're going to need to work out a different plan than what we used when I was there as Archer. You are also more under suspicion than he was, but then, he was very carefully chosen to avoid any such thing. Would you be so kind as to think on that during the next few days?"

"Of course, my lord. What you used previously worked masterfully, but I do not share the same talents. I shall consider it."

"I find myself rather curious about something, Severus, and do feel free to not answer if you don't wish. I know that staff do not stay in the castle during the summer holiday—so where is it that you normally reside?"

"Various places, my lord. It depends on circumstance and whim. I do own a small manor house, but I find it to be dreary and drafty, though the entire basement is given over to labs where I can experiment. However, I do not always stay there, preferring to move about from time to time, especially when I need to gather some of the more exotic ingredients of the trade."

"So, it would be foolish of me to worry at this stage if the old man is in the habit of popping in on you unexpectedly or wondering where you'd got off to."

"It is not his habit, no, my lord."

"Then I'll consider that matter closed and trust that you'll let us know if that suddenly changes." He fell silent for a time, leaning back in his chair with closed eyes to simply enjoy the warmth of the sun caressing his face. He listened with only a portion of his attention to the low-voiced conversation between Severus and Draco, who seemed to be getting along splendidly.

He was just starting to doze off when a pop signaled the arrival of a house elf, so he opened his eyes to see Maer looking at him expectantly.

"Master is to be reminded that it is almost time for lunch," said the little creature.

Brand nodded and stifled a yawn. "Thank you, Maer. We'll be along directly."

The house elf gave a quick bow and disappeared.

"Right. I hope you'll excuse us, Severus?" he said as he pushed away from the chair. Severus nodded as Draco also stood, so he turned and made another peculiar gesture out of their line of sight, then left the garden when Draco moved to his side. After washing up they joined Voldemort and set about discussing Brand's idea for dealing with Dumbledore over a light meal.

"It's really quite simple, father. And since I'm not above revenge now and again, I think it might prove to be a good way of handling things."

"Go on."

"After the school year begins, I thought I could slip back into the castle and hide somewhere in the Great Hall. During a meal I produce a _ghost_ Harry who accuses Dumbledore of all manner of things in an effort to rip his reputation to shreds, and then when I'm done, have the ghost drift off. If possible, then cause Dumbledore to suffer a mortal blow, as though he died in shame of what he'd done, either right then or shortly thereafter, depending on whether or not I can accomplish it immediately."

"A novel approach, I allow. But as we both know, Dumbledore is not fooled by invisibility. How do you propose to get around that?" said Voldemort.

"If I may," said Draco, "might there be reason for either the Board of Governors or the Ministry to pay a visit, my lord? Lord Brand could easily slip in among them in disguise."

Voldemort gave Draco a considering look before saying, "We lost much of our influence when your father was removed from the board, unfortunately. However, as the Minister of Magic is ours, that may well be a sound idea."

Brand could detect a slight hint of pride in Draco's eyes, though his expression remained respectfully blank. "Then perhaps the minister could visit in order to confer with the old man on the subject of the evil minions of Dark." The gleam of amusement in his father's eyes nearly made him laugh. "Since Fudge was so scared of losing his position to the renowned wisdom of Dumbledore—whom we all know turned down the position repeatedly—the old man might find it refreshing to have a minister who asks his advice most earnestly."

"And what, exactly, were you planning on accusing him of?"

Brand bit his lip. "Well, that's a sticking point. I'd prefer to be honest, you see, but—one of the reasons I wanted Harry dead was because I wasn't sure I could face the reactions of Ron and Hermione if they found out I was gay. I figured it was as well they'd never know. So if I used that. . . ."

After running a hand through his hair he said, "But definitely accuse him of failing to protect Harry, and letting him be killed."

"You're worried that revealing that will backfire on you, and make people sympathetic to Dumbledore's decision, my lord?" asked Draco quietly.

Brand smiled. "Considering it is not an accepted thing, yes." A glance at his father revealed him to be deep in thought. "In the end it doesn't matter if they were to know, and hated me for it. They're alive, Harry is dead, and that's what counts."

"You have many other missiles in your arsenal, son. You need not use that one if there is any chance of it working against us. For instance, did the muggles ever abuse you?"

Brand blinked and tried to think back. "I guess that depends on your definition of abuse."

"Try me," said Voldemort dryly.

"Physically, not really. At least not my aunt and uncle. Dudley would though, which is why I learned to run so fast. Anything that went wrong was my fault, and any chore that needed doing was mine to do. Emotionally, yes. They starved me, I know that now. Materially, yes. I never got anything that wasn't a hand-me-down, broken, or otherwise useless. I didn't have a proper bedroom until after I got my letter, and only then because they were afraid of what the wizarding world might do to them."

"Yes, I see," said his father. "And do you care if the wizarding world knows how badly Harry Potter fared at the hands of his only family?"

"I suppose not. It might be a shock to them that Dumbledore paid so little attention that they were able to put a number of locks on my bedroom door, cut in a cat-flap so they could shove tinned soup through, and bars on my window so I couldn't get out that way, either."

To his credit, Draco didn't bat an eyelash.

"I can only assume that currently you see the things Dumbledore did during the years you were at Hogwarts in an entirely different light," Voldemort continued.

"Yes."

"Then use it all. An impassioned outpouring of grievances, abuses, and whatever else comes to mind, summing it all up with the fact that not only were you left unprotected enough to be captured, but that he failed to rescue you from me and let you die—you, the symbol and hope of the Light, the Boy Who Lived."

Brand nodded vaguely, already devising speeches in his head that he might use.

"Excuse me," Draco interjected, "about his death, my lord?"

"What? Oh. An untested theory. I should like to stop his heart, right there in the Great Hall. But if that didn't work I would need a back-up plan for a short time after."

They had just started to discuss that when Maer popped in to announce that Lucius Malfoy had arrived.


	7. Delicate Maneuverings

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 07: Delicate Maneuverings —**

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Brand and Voldemort exchanged a look, and Brand gave a slight shrug. Voldemort turned to Maer and said, "Please show him in."

Maer bowed and popped out. A minute later Lucius walked through the doorway and did the customary obeisance, then at Voldemort's nod, pulled out a chair and seated himself.

"Good afternoon, my lords, Draco."

"To what do we owe this pleasure, Lucius?"

"I received Draco's message and thought this might be a wise time to visit, my lord. I hope you don't mind."

"No, I expected you would come in response. It certainly brings up matters to discuss because of it. What specifically was on your mind?"

Brand shot a look at Draco to see that his expression was curiously blank, and wondered about the exact relationship between father and son.

"If I understand things correctly, Draco is under consideration as Lord Brand's consort." When Voldemort nodded Lucius said, "While I have no objection to this as it stands, there is the matter of the contract between the Malfoys and the Parkinsons. I would like to request, given the circumstances, that it be declared null and void, my lord."

Voldemort arched a brow as he stared consideringly at Lucius. _:I wasn't entirely expecting that reaction.:_ "That can be arranged," he said out loud. "But what of the necessity of an heir? That is a consideration all must pay heed to. While you still have an heir in Draco, he will have none."

"That is true, my lord. And yet—"

"Oh, pray. Do say what is on your mind, Lucius."

"It is that my lord has gained an heir, seemingly out of nowhere. I mean no offense by this."

Voldemort turned to look at Brand and smiled, then back at Lucius. "Well and so. A most surprising occurrence, I allow. However, one presumes that Draco does not suffer as I do."

_And anyone with half a brain_, Brand thought privately, _would take that to mean father is sterile by way of all his experiments and not that he is incapable of bedding a woman._ But apparently not privately enough, as his father gave him a sly, sidelong look, letting the ghost of a smile touch the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, my lord. It seemed to me that while the contract could be upheld and an heir produced in the time-honored fashion, I must say that it might cause my son to be distracted from his primary concerns and wishes."

_:Oh, he is clever. He's worried that I'll be upset, or that Pansy will take up too much of Draco's time and cause problems between us. He's also worried about the stigma of divorce, especially for a name so old as Malfoy.:_

_:And your suggestions?:_

_:Suggestions? There are only three things I can see happening. The contract stays and we all deal with it, the contract is voided and Draco adopts an heir much as you did—an orphaned wizarding child—or . . . Lucius has another son.:_

_:With Draco being Lucius's heir, and the second son being Draco's?:_

_:Yes, father. The difference in age would be enough, certainly, and there would be nothing to come between Draco and me, nor issues of who is legally joined to who.:_

_:An elegant solution, my son. Let us see how Lucius receives it. However, it does not solve the issue of your own heir.:_

The silence by then had lengthened enough to cause both of the Malfoy men some discomfort.

"You are wise to consider the problems that could arise," Voldemort said. "But there are ways to sidestep the issue. You could, for instance, conceive another son, to stand as heir to Draco."

Lucius arched one of his aristocratic brows in an understated display of surprise. "That would be one method, my lord."

"Perhaps you should take time to consider it before coming to a decision. Speak with Narcissa. In the meantime, you may join us in the discussion we were having on Dumbledore's demise."

"As you wish, my lord."

-----

An hour later Lucius and Draco went off together, presumably to discuss the subject of an heir, leaving Voldemort and Brand to themselves.

"I will be candid, father. In truth I would much rather adopt a likely child, even preferably one that is subject to the abuse of a muggle family. Perhaps it is my—as I have often been accused of having—hero complex, but that is how I feel. If you insist on handling it otherwise, I will obey. I do worry about the problems that come hand-in-hand with adding a third person to the equation, though."

When Voldemort just stared at him, he continued. "I could imagine finding a suitable girl for this, hoping that she would deliver up to me a son and die in the process, but that is a rather callous look at things. Wizarding folk are generally much healthier than muggles in any case. The best reason I could think of for having a child of my own is to pass on my own abilities. Even then, as I do not know how much of what I am is due to my own birth parents, I am not sure what would—" He broke off in frustration.

"No one," said his father, "knows where you came from with the exception of Severus and Draco. No one knows if you are of my blood, or something else. It is not out of the question that a girl could be located of decent parentage who would consent to bear a child, then have her memory of it be erased. After that, you could adopt as many as you liked. It would take a great deal of time to remove all references to her condition, but it could be done with proper care and attention to detail."

Brand straightened up, feeling a bit better.

"As you see, what can be made to work for you would not be such an easy task for the Malfoys."

Brand was grateful that his feelings weren't being dismissed outright for being soft. After giving him a smile he changed the subject, knowing that it would come up again later on.

"Father, it occurs to me that if I succeed in taking out the old man someone will of necessity have to take his place, and I must wonder who that would be. I cannot help but think it would be McGonagall, though I don't have any idea what her feelings or inclinations would be regarding taking it on. It isn't the sort of thing you ask about in casual conversation, after all. Of course, it would be lovely if Severus could be elevated, but I don't know his preferences, either."

"It seems to me that the wisest course would be the most obvious."

Brand stared at his father for a moment before snapping his fingers. When Maer appeared he said, "Would you please have Professor Snape come to us?"

After a five minute wait Severus arrived, dropped to one knee with bowed head, then stood.

"Please have a seat, Severus" said Brand congenially. "I wanted your thoughts on something of some importance."

"As you wish, my lord."

"You already know that it is planned for Dumbledore to be removed from the picture, but what concerns me is who would take over the school in his stead."

Severus arched a brow and looked briefly at Voldemort, then back to Brand. "The obvious candidate would be Minerva, my lord."

"I agree, but do you know if that lies within her goals—or should I say, if she would take on that mantle if it were offered, or prefer to stay as deputy."

"It is my opinion that Minerva would prefer to remain deputy given the choice, based on what I've learned of her over the years I have been teaching Potions. However, I cannot be certain of that, my lord."

"And what of you?"

"I'm not sure it ever occurred to me that I could be in the running, my lord," Severus said after a short pause.

Brand looked at the floor, thinking, then turned to face his father. "Would it be wrong of me to think that with the right person as Head of Hogwarts that we could attempt to force certain changes as to how students are educated?"

"Such as?" was his father's not unreasonable question.

"Forgive me if any of this comes out the wrong way, but, such as competent professors for a start. Binns is better off lulling insomniacs to sleep as an example. Also, Ethics and Dark Arts classes, assessments of incoming students so that their abilities and strengths could be identified with an eye toward training them more properly. These are just extemporaneous ideas, and I realize that for some it would mean further changes within the ministry. But, after all, aren't we out for an overall shift?"

"Ethics?" Voldemort questioned in mild disbelief.

"Well, yes. People fear what they don't understand. That's as true for wizards as it is for muggles, though I won't debate which is more likely to be worse." Brand ran a hand through his hair and blinked at the magnitude of the debate that could touch off. "So, ethics. For example, it is disgustingly simple to kill a man using a number so-called light spells, yet the spell is not classified as dark. And there are a number of so-called dark spells that realistically are slandered not for their effects but for the fear of a person in power who thinks it may be too powerful, never mind that he himself cannot manage to cast it."

"I do believe I see where you're headed with this," murmured his father.

"Quite frankly, I don't see why the killing curse couldn't be used to give mercy to a terminal patient. And I don't see why I couldn't go into Diagon Alley tomorrow and levitate someone high enough to kill them when I let go, or use a trip jinx as someone stood at the top of a large staircase in Hogwarts. On the other hand, this could all be a silly and pointless discussion and we'd be better off creating a private college intended for our people's children.

"Then again," he continued without pause, "I could as easily say we should find a nice spot in the middle of nowhere—an Atlantis if you will—and start our own damn wizard-only country, sending out people to kidnap every muggleborn, yet magical child to be raised in the proper setting."

Brand realized what he was saying and stopped abruptly, coughing.

Moments of silence passed before he glanced over at his father to see amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Aren't we the little revolutionary, my son. Would you like to take over Australia, then?"

Brand flushed and dropped his eyes for a split second, then gave his father a cheeky grin. "Maybe."

The soft clearing of a throat reminded Brand that Severus was present. "In any case, we do need to consider what might happen once Dumbledore is out of the way."

"Indeed," replied his father with equanimity. "Severus, you should consider that you may be asked to take his place." Voldemort glanced at Brand before saying, "So if the possibility does not suit you, it would be best if we were made aware promptly."

"Of course, my lord."

"I think we are done for the moment. You should both probably get back to the students."

"All right, father. You will let me know if. . . ."

"Rest assured, though you will likely know as soon as I do, or even before."

Brand grinned, while Severus stood and gave a quick bow before exiting. Brand leapt to his feet and dropped a kiss on his father's head, then exited as well, ending up a bit startled when he realized Severus was waiting for him.

As they walked down the corridor together on the way to the gardens Severus murmured, "You really are quite close, aren't you, my lord."

"Huh? Oh. Yes, we are. I mean, I'm sure things would be different if James had lived, but—well, this is my life now, and I'm happy in it." Brand flashed a smile at Severus as they headed down the staircase. When they reached the bottom he stopped abruptly and turned.

"I thought you should know. . . ."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Er, actually, it's more like maybe you should know, or you ought to, or maybe you'd be interested, or perhaps you couldn't care less, and frankly, I'm not sure which." By then Severus was giving him a most puzzled look so Brand said, "Draco _knows_. I told him."

Severus looked lost for a moment before understanding lit his eyes. He nodded and said, "I find that most interesting, my lord. I trust he took the news well?"

"Sure did," Brand said cheerfully. "But I did not mention that you know." He grinned and loped off toward the garden.

-----

As it turned out his father was right. Draco received an owl from his father in anticipation of another visit, one which stated simply that Narcissa was in an agreeable mood. Brand was only surprised that it had taken so little time for word of any kind to arrive.

"Well, then, I expect that before long. . . ." he said once the letter was safely tucked away.

Draco nodded. "What about you, though?"

"Father has some ideas on that. Don't worry about it. I'm certainly not."

"If you say so."

"I do. But, I am curious about something. I was wondering, you see, about. . . ." Brand wrinkled his brow. "Do you and your father get along?"

"I suppose so," was Draco's startled reply. When Brand remained silent he spoke again. "I wouldn't say that we're particularly close. He's rather a formal person. Why?"

Brand shrugged. "Just something about the expression on your face when he arrived, that's all." He grimaced slightly and went on. "It's not that I'm criticizing, it's just—I never knew James. But I'm quite happy now, here. I feel . . . welcome. Safe. Needed. And trusted, really trusted. I feel like I fit in. And I can't imagine what life would have been like otherwise at this point, whether James had lived or not, or maybe I just don't want to."

Draco placed his hand on Brand's knee and let his thumb stroke back and forth slowly. "My father is cool and collected. Very much aware of his bloodlines and stature, though getting thrown into Azkaban sort of tossed things into the air—I don't blame you for that, by the way. Still, he's valuable and he knows it, and expects me to live up to that ideal. I haven't known anything else, so I can't say exactly what I might be missing, you know?"

After a moment Draco said, "I wonder if what you're trying to ask me about, or tell me, is that you can't imagine a child, especially yours, growing up with that little affection." He tilted his head questioningly.

Brand rubbed his chin and said, "Perhaps. I mean, I'm not worried about how he'll deal with me. I outrank him. Maybe I'm just wondering about his influence on yet-to-be little heirs, now that I know the surface is it. Again, I don't mean to criticize."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You don't need to repeat yourself. I'm sure if you do find cause to criticize it will be with good reason. I wouldn't worry about it in any case. Nothing says that the child, whenever it comes, needs to be raised at their manor. Personally, I think you need to eat. Shall I call for Maer?"

When Brand made a vague noise of agreement, Draco ordered dinner for the two of them. Turning back to Brand and seeing a frown on his face, Draco said, "Now why are you like this? Why do you look so depressed?"

Brand shrugged again. "Sometimes I feel so much older. But right now I feel awfully young. I never thought I'd be thinking about _children_ at this point. It all seems so real, and sudden." He threw his hands up for emphasis. "I guess I'm just being silly."

"You are," said Draco firmly. "Not that I mind."

"I hope not. I'm not always so disgustingly cheerful as I appear to be."

"You?" said Draco archly.

Brand snorted and sat up properly just as Maer reappeared with a huge tray. He leapt off the couch and took a seat at the table, watching with interest as it was unloaded. When Maer popped out, he immediately set about filling his plate.

"So, hmm. About lunch. I'm not sure how good my histrionics are."

"You plan on using everything except the one?"

"I might as well. My former family's tender treatment of me, the danger I was in at Hogwarts every year, the lies, the shaded truths, and of course, my death."

"Well, then, we should discuss my flair for the dramatic and what it can do for you. . . ."


	8. An Exchange of Thoughts

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 08: An Exchange of Thoughts —**

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Dinner was over. It was the next evening, and Brand was circulating among the guests, speaking to the many people who made up his father's followers. Most of them were in good spirits; a few of the younger people were uncertain and nervous. Unlike the day when Brand had been introduced as Voldemort's heir, everyone in each family had been invited, regardless of age. The very young were being watched over by a cadre of house elves, their elder siblings gathered in clusters around the ballroom giggling and speaking in hushed tones. Adults of varying ages were either dancing or talking, and all seemed to be having a good time.

Brand was in the process of speaking with Clarkson Williams when a nervous titter caught his attention. Even as he continued his discussion with the man, he began to keep one ear open to the conversation behind him. One voice was strident, one slightly shrill; both voices were low, not much far above a whisper.

"Oh, really, I don't think so," said one of the men.

"Don't be a fool. Of course he is. He's nothing but a snot-nosed, wet-behind-the-ears pup, and I resent very much having him thrust among us."

"I really don't think you should be saying that."

The second man scoffed. "You're pathetic. As pathetic as he is."

Brand, by now, was getting extremely curious about the identity of the person they spoke of. He heard another nervous laugh. "I don't think—"

"No, you don't," said the second man disdainfully. "Just you wait. The next thing we'll see is Lord Brand giving tea parties and decorating the mansion with flowers. He's a bloody poofter!" he hissed. "He's probably so busy rutting with that little blond toy of his that he hasn't any time to be of use to our lord."

Brand stiffened slightly, the smile on his face curdling into a soundless snarl. "Excuse me," he murmured to Williams, then turned. He watched at a slight angle as a rather short, pudgy man of middle years flushed and attempted to produce a polite smile. A second later the man's eyes widened as he realized exactly who stood there watching and took a step back.

His companion asked in irritation, "What's the matter with you? Spineless fool," as the first man continued to step back, slowly, a look of growing fear and horror on his face. "What in Merlin's name is your problem?"

Brand turned fully and brought his hand to rest of the shoulder of the man before him, tightening his grip and forcing him to pivot. "Yes, pray tell, what is your problem?" he asked silkily.

"Ah, my lord, I did not see you there." Brand recognized him as Stirling, a member of one of the outer circles. "I trust you are well." He bore a smug twist to his lips and his carriage was proudly erect. He was, to all appearances, a man who feared no one, least of all Brand.

"I have been. I would, however, like you to repeat what you said a moment ago so I may be sure I heard you aright."

"Which, my lord? I fear I have said many things." Heads were beginning to turn, caught by the strange exchange.

"Oh, any of the things you have just said of me to your departed companion," he said easily, with no hint of tension.

"Let me think. Ah, yes. If I recall correctly, I called you a bloody poofter, my lord."

"You dare show disrespect to me? To my father?" Brand asked with deceptive casualness.

"My lord, you are an honest man, are you not? You respect that as you respect truth. Why then"—he paused to flash an oily grin—"would I be less than honest, to hide what I think behind polite social lies?"

Brand released his shoulder and took a single step back, smiling. "Indeed I am. Then you shall not be unduly surprised when I express my own thoughts, dear fellow." He ducked his head for a moment, almost as if experiencing a momentary bout of shyness—Stirling's mouth twisted into a smirk—then looked him dead in the eye and laughed lightly, betraying nothing of his actual feelings.

"Crucio," he whispered, pointing his finger directly at the man's chest. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the house elves ushering their very young charges out of the room and closing the doors behind them.

Stirling arched backward, flinging his arms out behind him, and his mouth opened to emit a tortured groan of pain as he toppled to the floor and began to writhe in agony. Brand watched impassively as spasms racked the man's form, only peripherally aware when Draco appeared at his side. By then he had the attention of every person in the room.

He half expected Draco to stop him, though it did not happen. On reflection he realized that was a silly thought; Draco would not do such a thing. After a full minute passed—the ballroom was deathly silent but for the screams torn from Stirling's mouth—Brand lifted the curse. Palm outward, he cast a second spell, this time to immobilize. His next saw Stirling's wand in his hand, which he promptly snapped.

"As I said, dear fellow, I do not believe it to be wise to show disrespect, especially to my face." Though Stirling was no longer being tortured, his mouth gaped unattractively wide, and his eyes showed the first signs of fear. Brand let his gaze sweep the watching crowd, his eyes cold, ruthless, and merciless.

"I find it interesting," he said quietly, though with enough projection behind his words to have no doubt that every set of ears heard him, "that there are people among us so abysmally stupid as to cast aspersions on me in public, and by proxy, my father. Perhaps this man is nothing more than that. It was certainly foolish of him to believe what he was saying. You can all see the immediate results of his folly."

Brand glanced back down at Stirling and brutally rifled through his mind. "Yes, stupid, and yet cunning and sly enough to have lived this long." After a moment he arched his brow and his gaze snapped back up to sweep the crowd again. "You, boy. Come here," he commanded, pointing a finger at a pale-faced youth of about ten. When the boy simply stood there trembling, Brand repeated, "Come here," in a tone that brooked no argument.

Wordlessly the child approached on shaky legs, stopping a foot away and ducking his head. Brand said so softly that only Draco and the boy could hear, "Is this man your father?"

"Yes, my lord," came a whisper.

Brand was much gentler in accessing the child's mind, ghosting until he found what he needed. Without turning away he sent a compressed burst of images to his father.

"Boy, come to me," commanded Voldemort instantly, and was rewarded by immediate compliance. Brand watched long enough to see the youth seated near his father, then turned back to Stirling.

"So, let me see," he said, once again for the benefit of the crowd. "Narrow-minded, prejudiced, and stupid enough to lack fear. These things I might be able to forgive. However, you've crossed several very serious lines. I find your lack of faith in our lord most disturbing, Stirling, and to have the presumption to openly deride that which our lord has found acceptable at one of his gatherings is intolerable. Add to that your unforgivable treatment of your own flesh and blood. I'm afraid, dear fellow, that this is simply not your day. And I am the instrument by which you will learn a very dear lesson."

Brand glanced over his shoulder to give his father a very pointed look, letting his eyes flick to the boy briefly. A moment later the child's eyes took on a dreamy, glazed quality that reassured him.

"I want all of you to stand witness, for it is possible that some of you share this poor fool's misguided thinking." Brand extended his hand, palm up, and felt the surge of magic flow through his fingertips. He watched impassively as cuts began to appear on Stirling's exposed skin, cuts that bled and tore open wider. Immobilized, the only thing the man could do was to make noises in the back of his throat—noises of pain and pleading.

Ignoring the increasingly bloody display, Brand looked up and said, "Well and so. A man lays dying, denied even the faint hope of begging. How terribly cruel of me." As he gave a shark-like grin he noticed several of the younger people push their way through the crowd to the edges of the room, where they quietly emptied the contents of their stomachs. They were even polite enough to vanish the results afterward.

"Mark me well, those of you gathered here. I am not a man to be trifled with, nor will I be mocked. While I may not wish to instill an active fear of me in any of you, know that should I come across in one of you another of his ilk, I will act. And Merlin help you if I do, for these actions are nothing compared to what I am prepared to do. You'd best pray on whatever you hold dear I do not find you, for you will not like experiencing what the depths of my displeasure can produce."

Brand rested his gaze on Stirling once more, no sign of mercy on his handsome face. And then, as a thought occurred to him, he smiled beatifically. The entire crowd took a step back in haste. Without attempting word or gesture, Brand reached out with his magic and stopped the man's furiously beating heart. Stirling went utterly silent, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Brand clapped his hands briskly and the body disappeared, along with the pools of blood.

"You are all," he said conversationally, "dismissed." The ballroom cleared immediately, leaving him alone with his father and the still unaware boy. Brand sank to the floor and let his head drop as through weary. After a long silence he lifted his head and said, "I'm sorry, father. I think I may have overreacted to his foul mouthings."

Voldemort said nothing, instead crooking one finger in an unmistakable gesture of summoning. So Brand got to his feet and walked to his father, knelt before him, and bowed his head to rest against Voldemort's knee. He heard his father shift slightly, then felt strong fingers comb through his hair.

"I happen to disagree with you."

"What do you mean?" Brand asked, his voice muffled by his position.

"My very dear son, you said part of it yourself." He could feel Voldemort's fingers sliding down under his chin, raising his head gently so that he might look in his father's eyes. "We cannot afford people so stupidly bold as to insult us, in public or otherwise. That you found out he was abusive to his own is a matter I shall see to, for I cannot say I approve. But, Brand, you must understand that up until now many of our people have seen you as exactly the person you have presented. Genial, intelligent, and worthy of trust and respect. They have not seen—nor been allowed to see—all that is you. Today they learned that you can be just as ruthless and merciless as I have been, and that will add a new layer of respect in time. For the moment they may feel only fear because of your actions, but in time they will come to realize it for what it was and is, and respect your initiative, your power, and your actions. I am"—Voldemort smiled—"very proud of you, my son."

Brand felt relief spreading through his body like warm sunshine, and gratitude—not only was his father proud of him, but he had understood and answered his confusion. He angled his head and kissed his father's palm in response.

"Now, about this child," said Voldemort, rubbing his thumb along Brand's cheek.

"Joshua," supplied Brand.

"I believe I shall call in Lucius and Severus. The one to find out his previous and current situation, and the other to watch over the child until we decide what to do with him." Voldemort gave him one last caress and gently withdrew his hand. Brand stood as his father summoned a house elf and instructed it. Together, they waited in silence for the men to arrive.

"Ah, very good," Voldemort said as they stepped in and approached, then made their usual obeisance. "Lucius, I want a report on Stirling, and this child, Joshua." The rest remained unsaid; Lucius would know he was expected to provide every detail.

"Yes, my lord."

"Severus, I want you to take charge of Joshua for the time being. You have always had a way with the children of our own house, so I expect he will present you with no great difficulty. Any information you can get out of him is a plus, though I wonder if you might need a supply of calming draughts."

"As you wish, my lord."

Voldemort spared a glance for the boy, who was coming out of his unfocused state and starting to look around warily. "That will be all, gentlemen."

Each bowed. Lucius left immediately, while Severus pulled the boy to his feet and guided him out, murmuring all the while.

"And you, my son, should probably rest a bit. I think I may do a little investigating of my own."

"Yes, father." Brand rubbed his forehead—a headache was starting to settle in—then dropped a kiss on his father's head. As he left the room and walked slowly down the corridor, Draco appeared at his side again. Until they gained the privacy of their joined suites, neither said a word. And, once inside, Draco immediately steered him to sit on a couch, dropped down behind him, and started massaging his temples and scalp.

Several more minutes passed in near silence, the only sounds to be heard those of Brand's pleasure at his growing relief from pain. Draco's fingers slipped down to Brand's neck and shoulders, producing quiet groans and small, inarticulate grunts.

When someone finally did speak, it was Draco. "Feeling a bit better?" he asked softly.

Brand sighed and reversed his position. "Yes," he admitted. "Thank you."

"It's the least I can do. I'm quite proud of you, by the way. You were magnificent." His face reflected his words quite clearly.

"You think so?" At Draco's nod he said, "Father thinks so. I was afraid I'd displeased him by overreacting. I'm not sure I could bear it if I had."

Draco smiled like the sun rising in the depths of winter. "Let me guess. He told you something along the lines of how this will make people understand that you aren't just another pretty face, and have the qualities that make it abundantly clear that you are your father's son. Hmm?"

Brand couldn't help but smile back. "Something like that, yes."

"It's all very simple, Brand. And it doesn't make you a bad person, or untrue to yourself. Any organization must have order. You've just proven you will provide it and enforce it. Though, I'm not entirely sure what got you all riled up aside from on that boy's behalf." He tilted his head to the side and rested a hand on Brand's knee.

Brand's smile morphed into a frown as he explained what he had overheard, matching the one that formed on Draco's face. When he detailed what he gained from Stirling's mind and that of the boy, it deepened.

"That unbelievable bastard," said Draco roughly. "He deserved what he got, and a nice little object lesson for everyone in the bargain." He paused, then asked, "What is to become of the boy?"

"I'm not sure yet. Father is having it looked into." He sighed and said, "I could really use a drink."

"Oh, no. Absolutely not. Alcohol is no kind of answer," objected Draco.

"Ordering me around now, are you?" He narrowed his eyes at the blond, pretending to be annoyed.

"You're damn right I am," retorted Draco with a stern expression. "If you're going to spout nonsense like that, I'm going to make sure you don't do something foolish. I can't have everyone gossiping that my mate is a lush," he finished indignantly.

Brand chuckled and stared at his hands for a moment. "All right, but then I really want to get out of here for a while. You have muggle clothes, don't you?"

Draco affected surprise. "Why, yes, of course. But why do you ask?"

"Then put on something casual. We're going to the cinema."

"What on earth for?"

"I've never seen a film before. Have you?"

"Er. . . ."

"Right, then. Go get dressed."

After changing and Brand getting his hands on a good supply of muggle money, they left, apparating to London. Together they picked a film to see and bought a selection of sweets—none of which Draco had ever tasted—and found seats in the theatre halfway down and toward the center.

As neither of them were quite sure what to expect, both were equally enchanted and delighted, enjoying the wonder of it all almost as much as the film itself. Brand had of course seen television before, but it was nothing in comparison. When they finally arrived home, Brand was in an excellent mood and felt much relaxed—enough so that he invited Draco into his bedroom for the night to sleep at his side.

After long minutes spent undressing each other, they spent even more time lying there exploring each other's mouths and delighting in the sounds they made each other produce, before extinguishing the lights and curling up together. Draco was almost asleep when Brand abruptly stiffened, causing him to sit up in concern. "Brand?"

"I just realized something," came the soft reply. "Remember how I was worried I might not be able to kill the old man from a distance?"

"Yes, go on."

"I can. I did it today with Stirling—stopped his heart. I can do it."

"So that's why—all right. That is very good news," Draco said as he relaxed back onto the bed and snuggled closer.

"I'll tell father tomorrow. Sorry I startled you."

Draco kissed him softly and said, "Now go to sleep."


	9. Faces New & Old

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 09: New Faces & Old —**

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It had come to Brand's attention that Joshua was doing well. Apparently, Severus was not intimidating when he did not wish to be, and had taken Joshua—the boy had been housed in a set of rooms next to his—a little under his wing. Brand himself had spotted a mischievous gleam in the boy's eyes on several occasions, so it was clear to him that Joshua was not suffering unduly in his new situation.

Of course, no one could prove that the boy had been up to anything, despite that gleam, so no one worried about it. And while it was not as common for children too young for school to be seen at the estate, several families had brought their younger offspring in to provide the boy with non-adult company.

So it was that Brand wasn't particularly worried about him, or about the report Lucius had delivered just an hour previous. He walked into his father's study in good spirits, taking the seat across the desk.

Voldemort flipped the report over to him. "Read that," he said curtly.

Joshua was an orphan. He had no siblings, his father was dead at Brand's own hand, and his mother had died years ago. He was the last of his line. Lucius had uncovered a pattern of abuse that had begun after the mother's demise—a muggleborn woman of no real name—backed up by the notes Severus had included after convincing the child to open up to him personally.

As sole heir the boy commanded a very modest inheritance—enough to see him through school, but not to house him under normal circumstances. Stirling had a bit of a gambling problem, it seemed, and would have shortly run himself into the ground had he lived. In retrospect it was just as well. Brand would not have put it past the deceased Death Eater to have sold his own son into slavery to gain the money for just one more bet.

The only thing that struck Brand as odd in any way was that Stirling—a pureblood in Voldemort's service—had somehow managed to marry a muggleborn and get away with it. Eventually he closed the report and placed it on the desk, then looked up at his father.

"Now, about the boy," Voldemort said with an ugly sneer.

Brand stiffened and gave his father an incredulous look. "How—is that for his mother?" His father gave him a casual shrug of indifference and examined his nails. "Don't you dare sneer like that," Brand said, trembling. "Don't you_ dare _be a hypocrite!" he shouted a second later. "In case it's escaped your notice, _father_, you and I are no more than half bloods by birth, and you can't alter that any more than I can stop the sun in the sky or prevent the seasons from changing," he hissed, white-faced with anger. "You—" He stopped and stood up, then faced the other way, hugging himself tightly.

He heard his father mutter something under his breath. A moment later Voldemort quietly spoke. "Do you want the boy for your own?"

"What!?" Brand was startled enough to pivot back and nearly—but not quite—gape unattractively.

"I said, do you want the boy for your own?" repeated Voldemort.

"What the hell are you talking about? First you sneer over his _debased _bloodlines, then you offer him to me as a son? I barely even know the child." Brand threw his hands up in the air and turned in a circle, unable to better express his feelings. When his father said nothing, Brand began to calm down—enough so that he suddenly felt ashamed at his behavior. "I'm sorry," he said in a small voice.

"Don't apologize when I am, in truth, what you accuse me of."

"Fine," said Brand with an edge to his voice, then more quietly, "I should not have shouted at you."

Voldemort chuckled, startling Brand a second time. "At least you stand up to me."

"I should not have shouted," insisted Brand stubbornly. "My behavior was uncalled for."

"It isn't as though I can punish you for it," pointed out his father. "We both know I can't touch you."

Brand closed his eyes and replied, "Wounds need not bleed blood, father."

"Brand—son—you do yourself, and me, credit. I cannot refute your anger when it is backed up by such truth. Maybe you should not have shouted, but neither should I have given into further hypocrisy. I've never said this to _anyone_, but I do love you, and I'd sooner cut my own throat than cause you pain. I could not have asked for, nor hoped for, a better son than you."

Brand started to step forward, stopped, and let out a shaky laugh as he sat back down. "I'm a bad influence on you, aren't I."

His statement was greeted with return laughter, and Voldemort's was no more steady then Brand's had been. "Indeed you are. Now, about Joshua—I am serious, if that's what you'd like. Otherwise, we will find him a good home among our people or raise him in this household, whichever you would prefer."

"I don't know," Brand confessed. He might have said more, but a rapid tattoo of knocks sounded at the door. After casting a revealing spell on the door and soliciting his father's permission, Brand stood up and opened the door.

One of his father's men rushed in, bobbed a quick obeisance, then said breathlessly, "Master, we have captured a spy attempting to sneak onto the estate."

Voldemort lifted his chin and said, "Is that so. Bring this spy to the audience chamber in ten minutes time."

"Yes, my lord." The man bowed and rushed back out. Brand turned and blinked at his father.

"Shall we?" Voldemort rose and swept around the desk, patting Brand on the shoulder before exiting to the hall. Together they made the short walk and seated themselves within on the throne-like chairs meant only for them. Brand's was a bit less ostentatious than his father's, and set slightly forward and at an angle.

Several minutes later a group of men pushed through the doors, dragging someone with them. The messenger stepped forward and said, "My lord, this is the man I spoke of. A patrol caught him at the fringes of the wards and brought him in." He made a hand signal to the men behind him, and one responded by roughly pulling the prisoner's head up by the hair.

_:No!:_ It was all that Brand could do to remain stony-faced and seated as he looked at the battered form of Remus Lupin. A tidal wave of guilt crashed over him as he realized he had not thought once of Moony since he'd defected.

_:Excuse me?: _Voldemort gave him a sideways glance.

_:Father, please, I beg you not to hurt him!:_ Brand turned to look at his father, the anguish he was feeling surely reflected in his eyes like a gaping wound.

Voldemort snapped his fingers at the messenger, who strode over quickly and leaned in close. His father whispered into the man's ear, then sat back. The messenger straightened, nodded, and walked away, gesturing for the guards to follow him with the captive. Once the room was cleared, he turned to Brand and said, "Explain."

"Please, father. Don't hurt Moony. Don't use him," he said.

Voldemort rubbed his forehead and stared.

"I've shared so much with you—don't you recognize him?" Met with a blank look, Brand said, "He's Remus Lupin, werewolf, and the last real connection to my original family. I care about him. He's like a—" Brand stopped and jerked his head back, narrowing his eyes. "Wait a minute. Why have I never seen Wormtail since I've been here?"

"Him?" Voldemort seemed genuinely surprised. "He couldn't find his own—never mind. I let Nagini have him when he proved beyond doubt his worthlessness."

"Oh. All right. And Nagini?"

"Dead, unfortunately. It was quite tragic."

Brand couldn't help himself. "How?"

"Terminal indigestion. I never should have let her eat Peter." Voldemort looked down and sighed.

Brand sat there for the span of several heartbeats, then burst out laughing. When he was able to get himself under control he said, "I'm sorry for your loss, father. Nagini, that is."

"Yes, well, about this werewolf. . . ?"

Brand nodded. "I expect you may remember, then. Remus was one of James's closest friends, along with Sirius Black and . . . Peter. James is dead, my godfather is dead, Peter"—Brand sneered—"is dead. Remus is all that's left."

"And what exactly is it you propose? That we let him go? That we keep him stashed in the dungeons, but well fed and cared for? That we attempt to turn him?"

"I want to talk to him, to show him why Harry died. And—"

"And?" prompted Voldemort.

"And if he proves out to understand what the old fool has done, has caused, to take that one step further and bring him in. You know I can place coercions on him. He would not be able to betray me, father. And, if necessary, I . . . would kill him."

"All right. The more we can gain at the expense of Dumbledore's mistakes. . . ."

"Thank you," he breathed, then leapt to his feet and dropped a kiss on his father's forehead. "I'll go prepare now." As he rushed out the doors he took a moment to send, _:I love you, too, father.:_

He stopped in at one of the storage rooms to pick up several pensieves, then ducked into an empty room. After ensuring that the memories he was about to deposit into each would be played in the order of placement, Brand quickly extracted copies from his mind of the pertinent memories for each. Then he banished the third to his rooms and took the remaining two down to the dungeons.

The guards made no comment as he navigated the warrens, coming to a stop in front of Moony's cell. Within seconds, those nearby had melted away, leaving him in privacy. Brand conjured himself a chair and sat, causing Remus to lift his head from where he sat against the wall.

"What?" Remus said in a tired voice.

Brand smiled faintly and said, "I have a story to tell you, though I suppose it would be more accurate to say _show_ you. Are you interested, my dear man?"

"You think I care what a Death Eater wants?"

"Oh, I think you will," Brand responded lightly. He closed his eyes briefly, getting the conditions set up just so in his mind, then opened them and created a ball of incandescent light in the palm of his hand.

"What is that?" Remus asked with suspicious eyes.

"Nothing to cause you harm, rest assured. Not that you have much choice in the matter." Muttering under his breath, Brand flicked the sphere at Remus, silencing himself only when it had impacted on Moony's forehead. Remus hadn't even moved, clearly too tired, or too resigned, to attempt to dodge.

Brand smiled again and placed the first pensieve on the floor at his feet, then pushed it through the square opening in the bars. "I suggest you take a look at what this contains. I assure you that you'll find these memories extremely . . . illuminating."

Remus didn't move. Brand tilted his head to the side and said, "I could _make _you look, of course, but I'd rather not. While I don't expect you to trust my word, I will give it, and say you will regret forcing my hand."

"Who are you, anyway?"

"Brand Riddle, at your service. Lord Voldemort's heir. And that"—he pointed at the pensieve—"contains certain memories of a boy you once knew. I believe you'll recognize the name Harry Potter?"

Remus jerked slightly, as though in pain, and pushed away from the wall. "How dare you."

"I dare a lot of things, my dear Mr Lupin. I repeat: I suggest you look at those memories willingly. I have no particular interest in making you my personal marionette."

That earned him a disgusted look, but Remus reached forward and pulled the pensieve closer. After taking a deep breath, he immersed himself. Some time later he emerged, pale and shaking, and turned haunted, questioning eyes toward Brand.

"Would you like to see the next set?" Brand asked politely. Remus nodded warily, so Brand banished the first pensieve to his rooms and pushed the second one through the bars. As before, Remus immersed himself and later emerged, this time looking even more distraught. And so he should, considering that the second pensieve contained the memory of Harry Potter's death.

Brand did not speak, but instead banished the pensieve. Gazing at Remus, he carefully ghosted through the man's mind, discovering a wellspring of feelings—disgust and betrayal were most prominent—all directed at Albus Dumbledore. The prevailing sentiments regarding Harry were a sense of personal failure and heartbreaking sadness. And more personally, a chasm of loneliness.

"I can see you are not pleased with this, but perhaps you may begin to understand what happened, and perhaps even why I have shared this with you." When Remus directed a snarl at him, he said, "Mmm. There is more to this story, Moony." Brand deliberately used Remus's nickname. "And if you promise to behave yourself, I would be happy to let you out of this cell, order up a nice meal, and explain further. I know that _you _are a man of your word."

Remus appeared to consider the offer, and gave a resigned shrug. "I have very little left to lose. I give you my word I will not attempt to hurt anyone, or escape—at least until you have finished your explanation."

"Fair enough," said Brand, his tone once again light. He stood and vanished his chair, then unlocked the cell door with a thought. After pulling it open, he gestured and said, "After you." When Remus was on his feet and had left the cell, Brand took a firm grip on his arm and led him out of the dungeons and up to the third floor landing. "One moment," he said as he adjusted the wards to accept the werewolf, then resumed leading Remus to his personal quarters.

On opening the door he noticed Draco seated in a chair by the fire, reading. The blond lifted his gaze up, his face expressionless, and nodded a greeting, not even appearing to notice Lupin. Brand, who was standing slightly behind Remus, nodded back, then jerked his head slightly toward the connecting door. Draco rose without a word and left, closing the door behind him.

"Please, have a seat," he told Remus, then asked, "Is there anything special you'd like to eat or drink?"

"I don't care," was the morose response.

Brand snapped his fingers, and when Maer appeared said, "Could you please bring us a meal for two, Maer? Thank you." To Remus he said, "It's just about gone lunch anyway. Please, sit." He sat down at his small table and waited for Lupin to do the same. "Would I be correct in assuming that you had no idea how depraved Albus Dumbledore can be?"

"Expedient, yes. Focused, yes. But this? No." He said nothing for a minute, then, "I suppose it's better that Harry died for his beliefs, rather than to continue on with Albus holding his leash."

Maer popped in, served them, and popped back out. "Maer is a lovely fellow," Brand said conversationally. "He's been with me since the day I arrived here."

Remus was curious enough to give him a quizzical look.

"As I told you, my name is Brand Riddle. I am Voldemort's heir, and son, though he is not my natural father. But please, you must eat. If you don't mind my saying, you look quite awful. Once you've had a chance to get your bearings, I will finish my explanation." Brand smiled and shook out his napkin, then began to eat. Remus silently followed suit. After a quiet meal, Brand had Maer clear away, then seated himself in one of the chairs by the fire.

Remus stood, then slapped the table and said, "This is all wrong. Why am I sitting here playing social games when I've found out my Harry is dead because of Albus?"

"Have a seat, and it will become clear." Brand gestured at the opposing chair, then summoned the third pensieve to his hands. "This is the part of the story I withheld. This is the part of the story which will determine your fate, my dear Moony."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" spat Remus, taking the chair in a backward show of defiance. "Is Peter lurking around the corner?"

"Oh, no. He's quite dead. Father let Nagini have him. You are the very last of that circle. I certainly don't mourn the fellow. He was a weak, sniveling coward. Unfortunately, he gave her a fatal case of indigestion." He sighed dramatically and extended the pensieve.

Remus snatched it out of his hands and went in. Brand had given him the last piece of the puzzle—Harry's conversation with Voldemort about his own death, and a few more recent memories. When Remus emerged his eyes were wide and staring.

"I trust you understand now," Brand stated calmly.

"What did you do to me, back there in the cell?"

"I made sure you cannot reveal what you've learned. And until I am satisfied, I will not lift it. Until that time, nothing from that moment will be taken from you, by force or willingly. It is as much for your protection as for mine. Only I can get at it. Not even father has the power to subvert my protections."

"And what do you mean by my fate?" Remus retained so little colour that his face looked translucent.

"Whether or not you are released, held, stay of your own will, or are killed. Personally, I would rather it not be the second or the last. I would prefer you choose to stay here, with me. Father did leave this in my hands—he trusts me, after all."

"You call that . . . _thing_ . . . father?"

Brand chuckled. "I wouldn't let him hear you say something like that. He might take offense. And yes, I do." Brand leaned forward and said earnestly, "You know damn well that I've never had a family aside from you and Sirius. And I've never had a chance to understand what it really meant. Father trusts me, and I trust him. I didn't include what I did in that last pensieve to try to trick you. I was trying to get you to understand how things are. He isn't what you think he is, Moony. And I'm not crazy, so don't even say it. He didn't kill me when I came to parley—he waited and listened. He took me in, trained me, trusted me, listened to what I had to say and to my opinions, and he cares for me. And if I hadn't stepped in, you might as well be dead now."

He gave Remus a pointed look and said, "If not for me being here and being who I am now, you could easily have been used as a weapon. All anyone had to do was wait for the full moon and deny you wolfsbane. I think you'd probably rather be dead than be used in that way." Moony's face paled even more. "Because I care about you, because I wanted you to understand what happened to me, he's stepped back and left things to me. And because he loves me, I'll be the one to take Dumbledore down, his own plans be damned."

"I don't know if I can accept all of this," Remus stated flatly.

"Will you trust me enough to give me the chance to change your mind? I'm not asking you to hold out your arm and be marked, Moony. I just want you to see what I see, and what I do. I want you back in my life, and I want you away from Albus. I think you could be happy here, and I've never asked anyone to do something they weren't comfortable doing."

Remus looked away, and Brand felt for one wretched moment that he'd be forced to kill him. Then Remus said, "Fine. I'll give you that chance."

Despite wanting to launch himself at Remus and hold him, Brand held back. "Then there's someone I'd like you to meet. Though, you've already met." He stood up and crossed the room to the connecting door, opened it, and signaled Draco to come back in.

"Pardon the formality, but—Draco, please meet my godfather, Remus Lupin. Moony, please meet Draco Malfoy, my intended."

Remus blinked dazedly and held out his hand automatically. After reclaiming it, he said, "Godfather?"

"In spirit, at least. I can always hope, can't I?"

Remus managed a bemused smile.

Brand asked Draco, "Are the students in the usual place, do you know?"

"Yes. In the garden with—" Draco shot a look at Remus, then nodded.

"Oh. I suppose I'll have to take care of that personally." He worried his lower lip with his teeth, then said, "Draco, can I trust you to show Remus where he can clean up, then have you bring him down to the garden? I, er, need to go on ahead."

Draco produced a magnificent sneer, then smiled suddenly, provoking a startled look out of Remus. "Sure. I'd be glad to."

"Thank you." Turning back to Remus he said, "Because you're willing to trust me for now, I'll return the favor." Brand made a peculiar gesture at him, then nodded. After touching his arm, Brand left the room and headed straight for the garden, knowing that Draco would behave simply because it was him making the request.

Once there he made a beeline for Severus, shooing everyone else away impatiently. "You can't have him back until later. Off with you!" Turning to a plainly puzzled Severus he said, "Right, it's like this. A spy was caught today trying to sneak onto the grounds. The thing is, it's Remus Lupin, so I wanted to give you fair warning that he'll be here for a while."

Severus immediately glared.

"Now, come on, Sev. Work with me on this. Remus is important to me, too."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that, my lord," Severus said testily.

"Fine. Severus, then. Will you please behave? Draco will be down here with him any minute." Brand batted his eyelashes in an outrageous fashion, finally getting a faint smile for his efforts.

"If you insist, my lord." Severus stood and made a mocking little bow.

Brand clapped his hands and smiled just as Draco and Remus appeared. Draco cocked his head to the side and said, "You aren't daring to have fun without me, are you, my lord?"

Brand brought his hand to his chest and said innocently, "Would I do that to you?" The arch of Draco's brow needed no explanation. Brand snickered and grabbed Remus by the arm, steering him to a vacated chair and pushing him into it.


	10. Dastardly Plans

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 10: Dastardly Plans —**

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The first thing Brand did was to erect protections around their little section of the garden. The second thing he did was say, "Right. With those up, you can drop the 'my lord' business. I get tired of it anyway sometimes."

He pushed his hair back in a reflexive gesture and hunched forward over the table, his arms crossing atop it, and looked at Remus. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you again."

Remus started to smile, then hesitated. "I've seen the memories, but how do I know for sure it's even really you?"

Brand shrugged. "There's a lot I could say to try to convince you, but you might assume I learned things from Severus. Though, I can say that after Severus was knocked out in the Shrieking Shack I trusted you enough to let you and Sirius explain the past, and that it was I who insisted Sirius not kill Peter. Of course, I could have tortured that information out of Ron and Hermione while they were here and obliviated them afterward, so even that is suspect. How well do you remember our lessons when you were teaching me how to produce a patronus? Would you like me to cast one? I doubt very much that there is another person living who has Prongs as his guardian."

"To be on the safe side, yes, I think I would like you to," was Remus's cautious reply.

"Sure," chirped Brand cheerfully, then clearly intoned the spell. A moment later Prongs galloped around the clearing, coming to a stop at Remus's side. As the creature lowered its head to touch its nose to his cheek, it dissipated.

"All right," said Remus, clearly shaken. "So you're telling me that you're—" He cut off abruptly, confused at his inability to say the words he intended.

"I told you, Moony. My protections cannot be subverted, even by father."

Remus shook his head sharply, then cast a glance at Severus and Draco alike. "These two know, then?"

"Absolutely. But that's it besides you and father." Brand noticed Draco give Severus a faintly speculative look. "I really don't think it's anyone else's business, and as you can see, I am in a position to enforce my beliefs on the matter."

"Yes, you've made that quite clear—what did you say your new name was again?"

"Brand Riddle. The given because it's a joke. I'm not branded with a mark, but the name serves in a twisted fashion—my idea, actually. The surname because, despite its muggle origin, I have become something of a riddle, even to father's own people." Brand smiled cheerfully, and was pleased to see one blossom on Remus's face in response to his odd sense of humor. "Ask what you will, Moony. If it cannot be answered, I will at least try to explain why."

"I guess I can understand why Draco is here, but . . . Severus?"

Brand glanced over and arched a brow. It wasn't as though he had ever specifically asked Severus why he had chosen as he had.

"That is fairly simple," Severus said after a ponderous moment. "I had always been of two minds about things, never really sure where I should be, or what I should be doing. Like any good Slytherin, I played both sides. But it became apparent to me over time that Albus was not all that he appeared to be, and it worried me greatly. When Brand approached me, when he showed me he knew exactly what I had been up to, and gave me a clear choice, I spent a great deal of time thinking about his offer. What he had said was true, and I found that I believed him when he told me I would be set free if I wished it. As it was, I decided to stay after seeing how things had been playing out. Brand I can trust implicitly, where I cannot trust Albus."

"I see," said Remus. "And am I making overly stereotypical assumptions about you, Draco?"

"Yes and no," he replied. "I did not agree with much of what our lord was doing, but I felt he had the right of things overall. It was after Brand came that I began to feel much more confident that I had, in fact, made the right choice. I have never trusted Dumbledore—I think he's used his reputation as the defeater of Grindelwald to his personal advantage, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was by his own actions, in part, that our lord became who he was."

"I suppose," Remus said slowly, "that you're wondering why I was even skulking around the edges of the estate."

Brand perked up; he had been wondering.

"Albus sent me. He said he didn't want to jeopardize Severus's precarious position, and he thought my enhanced senses would provide me with a better measure of protection than most of the Order members for a little spying."

Brand quirked a brow up, feeling more than a little disbelief. "So Albus still believes that Severus is his?" When Remus nodded he said, "But still, that's ridiculous. I mean no offense, Moony, but did Albus really think we wouldn't be prepared here? I'm sorry, but it sounds almost as though Albus picked you because no one would mourn a dead werewolf if you were caught and disposed of. You, my dear godfather, were one of Albus's last hopes of keeping Harry close. Family, if you will. And with Harry gone, well. . . ."

"Believe me, I had already considered that. But as you say, Harry is dead, and aside from fighting for what I believed in, I had very little left to live for. Everyone is long since dead and gone, and current acquaintances are hardly enough to make up for the loss."

"And how the hell did he have any idea of where you should look?"

"I honestly don't know. He doesn't bother to tell me things like that." Remus seemed a bit resigned again.

"Well, I won't try to convince you of anything, Moony. But I think Albus considers you expendable. He's probably put tails on some of our people that have children too young to apparate."

Remus shrugged. "Does he really care about you?"

Brand smiled easily. "Yes, he does." Both Severus and Draco were nodding in agreement.

"I have seen any number of instances where it is obvious," offered up Severus, "and you know how cynical and jaded I am. Though"—Severus smiled, which seemed to startle Remus—"how anyone could not like Brand is beyond me."

That seemed to startle Remus even more, though a grin slowly began to form on his mouth. "Okay, colour me convinced. Assuming Severus here wasn't given a personality transplant, this is no dream. But, I'm not sure what to do."

"What do you mean?" asked Brand.

"Albus sent me here to spy. If I stay, that's fine. He might just assume I was caught and executed. But if I were to return?"

"Well, as to that, I can protect your mind. That means veritaserum wouldn't work, nor would the imperius, to get you to speak the truth of what you know. Neither would Legilimency. But, why would you return?"

"I don't know what use I'd be around here," said Remus plainly.

"Moony, I wouldn't care if you sat around all day cracking jokes to make me laugh. I'd be happy just to have part of my family with me I thought I'd lost forever. I love you. What you want to do is your choice. All I care about is that you not betray us, because then I would be forced to kill you—that's not something even I can get around."

"You say you can protect my mind."

"Unequivocally."

"Then what if I were to return to get some of my own back?" Brand quirked a brow again, and Remus continued, "Albus sent me here, possibly to die, preferably to bring back information. Though honestly, I'm not sure what he expected me to find. He wouldn't have any reason to suspect I was being less then truthful or helpful. You've already said you have plans to dispose of him, so maybe it doesn't matter, but is it really that simple? I mean, when were you planning to move ahead?"

Confused, Brand said, "Sometime after the start of the school year. Why?"

"Wouldn't it be better to discredit him before you killed him?"

Severus cut in with, "Do you not think it unwise to be bandying about potential timetables with Lupin's mind unprotected?"

Brand bit his lip. "Moony, are you with me?"

"Yes, I am. Maybe I'm crazy and maybe I'm being deluded, but yes."

"Okay, then hang on for a minute." Actually, it was more like fifteen, and when Brand was done tinkering with Remus's mind he felt a bit wiped out, sagging back in his chair to let it support him. Severus, having seen this reaction before, snapped his fingers to summon a house elf to bring refreshments for his master's comfort. After Brand had drunk almost a full bottle of butterbeer, he said, "Thanks, Severus. I forgot how much that takes out of me."

He was part way through a second bottle before he spoke again. "All right, what are you suggesting, Moony?"

"I have no idea what you already have in mind," Remus said as he reached for a bottle for himself, "but it seems to me that it would be a bit of poetic justice to serve Albus with some bad luck before you do whatever it is that you do."

"Are you saying you'd be willing to play the opposite side of the coin Severus does?" When Remus nodded he said, "Severus passes back only truth, and you pass back only falsehood, or a mixture of both?"

"Sure. I don't think Albus could possibly conceive that I, of all people, would ever play him false."

"Where are you living these days?"

"Same place as always, my house. I only go to—" Remus stopped and cast an apologetic look at Draco. "I only go you know where when called, or to the castle. Albus doesn't seem to think I'm very useful, so I was surprised when he asked me to do this."

"But he only summons you? He doesn't come visiting or anything?"

Remus shook his head. "Just the occasional summons."

Brand pondered, idly taking another swig from his bottle. "What do you two think?"

"There is some merit in the idea," said Severus. "But to discredit Albus would mean to conceive of situations in which the Order could respond, but end up looking like fools because of."

"Yes," said Draco, "but where is Remus getting this information? Assuming the old man sends him out again because he came back alive is one thing, but to assume he would believe Remus is able to get in and out of the estate at will is a bit much. Just because Remus has great hearing doesn't mean we're all standing on the other side of the hedge discussing our dastardly plans in loud voices. Though, I agree it would be interesting to set up events in such a way that the Order would bungle things badly no matter what."

"Mm. Of course, that could be what Remus brings back the first time, in exactly that manner." Brand grinned at Draco, despite the sarcasm that had dripped from his mate's words. "Which reminds me. . . ." Brand summoned Remus's wand to his hands, then placed it on the table. "I think you'll be wanting this back."

"How the hell do you do that?"

Brand shrugged. "I just can. I don't question it. Talk amongst yourselves while I speak to father for a minute." He ignored the suddenly puzzled look on Remus's face and closed his eyes to block out that part of his senses.

_:Father?:_

_:Yes, son.:_

_:Well, Moony is with me, us, in case you weren't peeking in.:_

_:And what do you plan on doing with him?:_

_:Actually, he wants to play Devil's Advocate to Severus.:_

_:I'm sorry?:_

_:We think maybe the old man sent him out here to die as useless, and Moony is inclined to get a bit of revenge. He suggested passing back some disinformation—wait, I'll just send you the conversation.: _Brand shot a compressed memory burst across their link and waited.

_:I see. A very interesting idea. It might be worth it to have a little fun with Dumbledore before you kill him. I don't suppose Severus has indicated yet whether or not he would be comfortable as Headmaster?:_

_:Actually, no. But we have time, and frankly, I don't know whether it would be better to change Hogwarts to suit us, or start over with someplace new. There would be a huge amount of resistance to the kinds of changes I proposed and I wouldn't be surprised at a sharp uprising in home-schooled children as a result. Either direction we go in will not see us reaching as many people as we want, and I really can't see sending all the children to Durmstrang.:_

_:There are always your very radical ideas.:_

_:Would that even make you happy?:_

_:If Dumbledore were out of the way, I would be greatly satisfied. After that, who knows? Though, I think Australia might be a bit overlarge for our purposes.:_

Brand could feel his father's amusement and chuckled in response. _:True, I suppose. So what do you think? Shall we here whip up a nice bit of gossip for Moony to bring back by the skin of his teeth?:_

_:Yes, go ahead. We shall see what results it brings. If it is likely to suit our purposes well, we can devise more. Otherwise, I would suggest that Remus stays here with us for his own protection, and your peace of mind.:_

_:Thank you, father.:_

_:You're quite welcome, son. In fact, I think I shall come down and join you. It is a lovely day, after all.:_

Brand smiled and opened his eyes, letting the sounds around him filter back in. "Heads up, kids. Father is coming to join us." He made a subtle gesture and sat up straight, then smirked at the dark look Severus was giving him. "He seems to like the idea and wanted to come have fun with us." Remus looked like he wanted to crawl away crab-wise, but Brand didn't let that bother him. He placed a reassuring hand on Moony's arm and smiled at him.

A minute or so later Voldemort appeared and took a seat on Brand's other side. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

Severus and Draco both said, "My lord."

Voldemort focused his gaze on Remus and said, "So, it appears I should welcome you. I hope you enjoy your stay here."

"I, er—it's a . . . pleasure to meet you under more congenial circumstances—" Remus broke off and cast a helpless look at Brand.

Brand grinned and said, "I'm sure father wouldn't lop your head off for using a simple 'sir,' Moony. After all, it isn't as though you've sworn fealty as a Death Eater." Then he frowned slightly and turned to his father. "Who came up with that term, anyway? It's a bit silly if you ask me."

Voldemort gave him a frosty look and said, "I did."

"Oh," Brand said with mock contriteness. "I suppose that means I shall be going to bed without any supper tonight, huh?"

Voldemort—he was looking almost entirely human these days but for the slit-pupiled red eyes—played along and grinned, causing Remus to go pale, then said, "Yes, that's right."

"Piffle," Brand responded, eyes demurely downcast. Then he looked up and said briskly, "So, about this idea. I admit my mind is a blank at the moment, but I think it's fairly important that if Remus is to return as though he's heard something and left quickly to take advantage of it. . . ."

"There is nothing to say," said Voldemort, "that this first time must be anything other than the truth. If we were to stage an attack entirely for the benefit of securing Remus's bona fides, that would be acceptable."

"You mean like something the Order could rush in for and drive us back?"

Voldemort nodded.

"Perhaps then, my lords, we could pretend to go after the Granger girl and her parents—she is muggleborn, after all—but not succeed because the Order was waiting for us," suggested Severus. "And, given that she was quite a help to Harry Potter, it could be perhaps"—he shot a sly look at Voldemort—"that our lord harbors a desire to see her dead for her interference."

Voldemort rubbed his chin in thought. "Yes, we could do that. It would mean handpicking the people to make the raid. Brand, of necessity. Perhaps Lucius."

"Dementors, my lord?" asked Draco.

"Mm, maybe, so long as I took the time to make the plan exceedingly clear to them."

"And perhaps in a week, Severus could go to the old man to confirm the story, at least in a vague sense," said Brand.

"I have no doubt, my son, that you could keep whoever I sent with you safely out of the hands of the Order and still make it seem as though you've been routed. I see no reason to object to Severus's idea. We shall see how it plays out, then plan from there."

"Brilliant." Brand flashed a smile at Remus and said, "You game, then?"

Remus only nodded, possibly because he had no idea if he was to call Brand by his name, sir, or my lord.

"Then all you need to do is tell the old man you overheard some snatches of conversation about the Grangers and an attack. I expect they'll immediately set up a rotation of Order members and—ooo, wait."

"Worried that they might attempt to place them into hiding, my lord?" asked Draco.

"Rather. Perhaps Severus's contribution should be confirmation plus a date? The full moon is coming up soon enough, so if we went for that night, Remus would also have an excuse to not be involved. That's what . . . the eighth?"

Remus nodded again.

"Does that sound all right, father?"

Voldemort nodded, then gave Remus a speculative look. "Has anyone been providing you with wolfsbane?"

Remus shook his head and said, "No, sir. There are very few people who can make it, and it's quite expensive."

"Well, we can't have that, now can we? Severus?"

"Of course, my lord. I will make sure that Lupin is adequately supplied from now on."

"Very good. And you, Remus—if you need money, talk to Brand. I refuse to have my pe—my son's godfather running around in poverty when it can be remedied."

Remus raised his brows and said, "That is kind of you, sir."

Voldemort waved his hand. "If it makes Brand happy, I'm happy. Now, I need to go have a chat with some dementors. Good afternoon, gentlemen." He rose, but did not get away before Brand had bounced to his feet to plant a kiss on his cheek.

After Brand sat back down he looked at Severus and said, "Thanks."

Severus inclined his head.

"Just like that?" asked Remus.

"Huh?"

"Your father asks, and Severus is perfectly willing to make wolfsbane without a fight?"

"Of course," said Severus. "Our lord wants it, Brand wants it, so I'll do so with no arguments. Besides, I rather think Brand would blow himself up in the attempt if he tried it."

Brand snickered and said, "Now that's not fair."

"I am only following your policy of honesty," shot back Severus with a grin.

"Fine," said Brand hastily. "Back to the plan. Moony, you were skulking, eventually overheard the bit about the attack on the Grangers, but nothing of any real substance. Severus will back you up in a week. Do you want to stay through dinner, or would you prefer to go sooner?"

"Sooner, I think. It's only been a couple of hours since I got here, so the more quickly I go, the better."

Brand nodded. "I will make sure that everyone knows you are with us, so apparating in won't have you stunned and tossed in a cell before you have a chance to blink. Though, I suppose I should show you the normal spot before you leave. I often ward off sections of the garden for privacy and I'd hate for you to bounce. If you're absolutely certain that the old man won't ever come looking for you personally, we can always set up a suite of rooms for you here. It's up to you."

"I think I'd like that."

"Wonderful. Then let me show you the travel room. Come on."


	11. Assignments

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues. (There is a bit in this chapter that I borrowed _briefly_ for Crumbling Pedestal, but I'd always intended for it to happen here.)

* * *

**— 11: Assignments —**

* * *

"Until you get used to the place, you can always call for a house elf," Brand said, leading Remus through the house. "In fact, there's a pull in the travel room just for that purpose."

"Sounds a bit odd."

"Well, it's not often used. Most people have been here often enough that they don't need it. Those too young to apparate generally arrive with a parent by floo, so. . . ."

"You're hooked up the the floo network?" Remus sounded scandalized.

"Of course. Half the ministry is staffed by either Death Eaters or unmarked sympathizers, so it's no big deal." They reached the room Brand had mentioned and entered. "This is the travel room," he said, sweeping his hand around. "For safety's sake, always apparate into here. If you must floo, we're listed as _Ashwinder Cottage_."

Brand turned and faced Remus. "Listen, come back as soon as you can, all right? And when you do return, pull that over there"—he pointed at a narrow length of ornately embroidered silk that reached to the floor—"and have the house elf that appears tell me you're here. If I can't come get you directly, I'll tell it what to do."

Remus nodded wordlessly.

"I love you, so come back to me safely."

Remus finally stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Brand, who returned the hug with an enthusiasm that matched his pent-up feelings. He said thickly, "I love you, too . . . Brand," then pulled away and disapparated.

Brand stayed there for a moment, savoring the memory of the hug, then wheeled around and left to go inform the household of its new member with a slight bounce in his step.

-----

Remus didn't actually return until Severus came back from his confirmation meeting with Dumbledore, which caused Brand no small amount of nervous jittering in private. It was bad enough that Draco began to threaten him with calming potions after the first night. One bit of unexpected and good news had arrived, though. Voldemort had tracked down a likely girl and she was even then traveling toward the estate.

That gave Brand two things to be nervous about. Draco retaliated by forcing him into the tub every evening, using very hot water to make Brand relax despite himself, and massaging his shoulders and neck until Brand didn't have the will to be anything but agreeable. Draco also disdained his own bed to share Brand's, insisting that he could keep a closer eye on him that way, and would be there to listen or talk if necessary.

Brand wasn't fooled, and Draco knew it even as he explained his reasoning. That didn't prevent Brand from allowing it; he enjoyed having Draco snuggled up to him at night. It didn't matter to him if he was holding Draco or the other way around, either.

The days went by slowly, as they tend to do when one is anxiously awaiting something. Training of the children continued, and Brand expended a great deal of energy teaching the three brightest of the current batch the rudiments of the code he had developed for them to report with since Severus couldn't ghost minds. And, as all three of the students took Potions, it seemed likely that none of them would be suspected for much of anything aside from having the bad taste to be sorted into Slytherin.

As Draco and Severus had helped him derive it from the original code he had developed, cutting it down so that it would be easily remembered and used, they would continue to drill the three who would need it for the remainder of the summer so that Brand could move on to other things.

On the third day of Remus's absence, Pansy announced out of the blue that she no longer thought Draco was all that special and would he mind terribly if their contract was broken. Draco, ever the gentleman, took it with good grace and assured her that her happiness was more important than his disappointment. She wandered off, satisfied, and Brand decided she needed something to do with her spare time.

After a very long discussion with his father, Brand eventually pegged her as the person to begin a rather involved research project. She would be placed at the ministry in a fairly innocuous position, but one that allowed her access to a great deal of information. Brand was very keen to better understand why pureblood families produced squibs, and what the effects were on magical strength when muggles married into wizarding families. He also wanted statistics on the number of muggleborn children in relation to those produced in wizarding families and their non-magical counterparts, and any odd circumstances surrounding those children's conception or birth.

Blaise he wasn't sure what to do with yet, so he yanked Severus aside for a private talk.

"I don't know offhand," Severus responded, "but I'd prefer you get him off the estate."

Brand blinked in surprise. "How come?"

"He's too damn young! We have absolutely nothing in common, either. I find myself inventing excuses to be elsewhere on a regular basis."

"Oh," said Brand, nonplussed. "Er. . . ."

Severus gave him a patient look.

"Right. I'll figure something out. Carry on." Brand retreated, somewhat annoyed that Severus hadn't just come to him in the first place. He spent that afternoon pouring over the list of open positions at the ministry for someone with Blaise's exam scores, narrowing it down to those that stood a chance of actually being useful to them.

At dinner he brought the issue up with his father, presenting the list and asking if he objected, or if he had anything else in mind for the boy. A letter went out that night to the minister, recommending young Blaise for the spot they had eventually chosen. Confirmation arrived the next day on both Blaise and Pansy, so they were called in, informed of their assignments and the arrangements that had been made for their new homes, marked, and released to go pack.

Voldemort was the one to mark them, but as Brand could as easily manipulate his father's work as do it himself, it didn't much matter. They would be reporting to him, though, rather than Voldemort. The only real difference was in where they were marked and the size. Were one to look at them one might only notice a small black mark above the inner elbow and toward the underside of the arm.

The day finally arrived when Severus was to confirm what Remus had supposedly overheard. He left after donning a mask of cold disdain, returning later that evening with a slight smile on his face. After dropping to one knee for a moment, he rose and said, "My news caused them even more anxiety, my lords, but they were pleased that I was able to obtain the date of the attack."

"They suspected nothing?" asked Voldemort.

"Not that I could ascertain, my lord. They had not wanted to believe what Lupin had reported, but set a watch regardless. Dumbledore kept him behind after the meeting, but I believe he will be arriving shortly."

"Do you know who is to be on watch that particular night?"

"Moody"—Severus sneered—"Shacklebolt, Tonks, Jones, the Weasley boy, and a handful of others, my lord."

"Very well. Write up a report for us, Severus."

"Yes, my lord." Severus started to leave, but was stopped.

"Severus? Incidentally, how is young Joshua getting on?"

"Quite well, my lord. Now that he has no fear of being punished simply on whim, he has blossomed. I find him to be a rather engaging, intelligent boy."

"I had not heard anything recently—I trust he is keeping himself out of trouble?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Carry on, then. You may go."

Severus bowed and departed.

"Moody," said Brand thoughtfully, then, "Shacklebolt."

"What is it, Brand?"

"Hm? Oh. I was thinking about their weaknesses."

"In what sense?"

"Physical weaknesses. I've been thinking about how to handle our retreat, you see. And, with those two present. . . ." He looked over and smiled, then shrugged. "I was just thinking it would be typically underhanded to take advantage of those weaknesses to provide a distraction so we could leave. For instance, Shacklebolt wears that damned gaudy earring. I imagine it would sting a great deal if someone were to summon it. And it would be a definite distraction if someone were to swipe Moody's wooden leg or magical eye. Some of our people could do that while I cast the Dark Mark into the sky, which would be the signal for our forces to retreat."

He paused a moment, then said, "Of course, it would be even more fun if I could set up a full scale illusion, but Moody's eye would see right through it even if I could."

"Then perhaps you should be careless and dispose of him."

Brand opened his mouth to respond when a house elf popped in. "Yes?"

"The young master was wishing to be informed when Lupin is arriving, sirs."

"Could you please escort him here, Kale? Then bring refreshments for us?"

"Kale is being happy to, sirs." The elf popped out immediately.

"If you wish, father, though I'd still like to humiliate him a little before I kill him."

Voldemort smiled slowly and nodded.

"I know this is a set up, but it's a bit rude for the other side to hand us opportunities for such cheap tricks," said Brand. "If it ever came down to a real fight, I should like to know we won fairly."

Voldemort was grinning when Remus was brought in, and conjured up a chair for him absently. After being detained long enough for a heartfelt hug, Remus sat down.

"Moony, you look upset. What's wrong?"

Remus didn't appear to be very talkative, though, scowling down at the floor with clenched fists. Kale popped back in with a tray before Brand could get anything out of him, and so the next couple of minutes were spent choosing drinks and something to nosh on.

Brand tried again at that point. "Moony? You look positively vicious. Now come on, tell me what's upsetting you."

"Albus."

"He kept you after the meeting—why?"

"I thought—he—I had been part of the watch set up on the Grangers."

Brand nodded, casting a look at his father.

"I thought because the attack was staged for the full moon—I assumed he was holding me back to tell me I was off duty, so to speak."

A niggling suspicion began to form in Brand's head, and it wasn't pleasant.

"He said . . . he wanted me to be there. I had been"—Remus glared—"so useful in bringing back word of the attack, he said. He _suggested_ that I be there that night so I could attack back."

Both Brand and Voldemort frowned heavily.

"Are we to understand," said Voldemort after several moments, "that he would have you there, out of your mind? That he would risk his own people in that manner, just to strike back at us, using you as an uncontrolled pawn?"

Remus looked up. "He's been acting strangely all week. I don't think he expected me to return at all. I think . . . that with Harry gone, he sees me as a liability, and wants me dead. I think . . . you were right, Brand."

Brand was too astonished at the utter cruelty to think of a response.

"The man is obviously mad," said Voldemort. "Do the others even know of this?"

Remus shook his head.

"I see. Then what do you wish to do?" When Remus looked at him blankly, Voldemort said, "As I see it, you have several options. You can disappear and be presumed dead. You could be captured prior to that night, and again be presumed dead. Or you could comply, though retain your mind due to wolfsbane, knowing that we would not cause you any harm during the mission."

Remus was silent for a long time, then said, "They wouldn't know I was safe. If I appeared as Albus requested, they would as likely kill me as incapacitate me."

"Then it must be one of the first two options," said Voldemort reasonably.

Brand held up a finger and said slowly, "Father. It could be that we move in on two fronts, per your idea. Several days prior to the attack that they know of, we could take out several people."

"Explain."

"We stage an attack on Moody, for one. Kill him, that is. Then go after Moony, except of course, no one would know what happened to him. And then, a third. Who, I'm not sure. Someone who isn't on the list of guards for that night, but is strongly suspected of being with Albus. Or even just someone random that we mess up a bit and leave, after we toss their house in what looks like a search for something."

"And Remus moves here permanently," finished Voldemort.

"Yes. Moony stays here, safe from being used."

"Would that put Severus in danger?" asked Remus unexpectedly.

Brand blinked; Voldemort answered, "No, I don't think so. Severus was never included in every facet of operations. I knew he was a traitor. That he was not informed of the decision to go after certain people would not be viewed as suspicious."

"Then I would prefer the second option. If Albus is willing to use me that way, he would have no doubt in thinking you would as well. He would either assume I was killed to remove a very dangerous creature loyal to the Light, or taken to be forced into being a weapon against him."

"We have a week yet. Brand, we will resume this discussion tomorrow. I will summon a number of the inner circle to join us in planning. For now, you should see to your godfather."

"Of course." Brand rose and dropped a kiss on his father's head, then pulled Remus up and led him away to his own rooms, pushing him down onto the couch and sitting next to him. "I'm so sorry, Moony. I didn't want to be right about any of this."

"I know—Brand. It's not your fault. You saw things much more clearly than I was willing to."

The connecting door opened and Draco walked in, placing his hands on his hips in frustration. "What the hell is going on around here, Brand? Our lord is storming around like a thundercloud and people are scattering in every direction like peasants during a crusade."

"Father is just a little upset right now, I expect," said Brand mildly. "We received some unexpected and troubling news."

Draco dropped his hands, then said, "Hullo, Remus. Nice to see you're back. Brand really drove me crazy while you were gone. Maybe now that you're here he'll settle down."

Remus smiled faintly and Draco plowed right on. "Did he tell you yet? His, er, not wife is on her way here and should be arriving within the next few days. That wi—"

"Not wife?"

Draco nodded and launched into a explanation after taking an empty seat. Whether by design or blessed ignorance, the blond managed to redirect Remus's thoughts to something other than his own plight, eventually teasing out normal smiles and even laughter. Brand bore it all stoically, managing to laugh at himself when Draco described his behavior of late.

When Remus was fairly well relaxed, Brand showed him the suite he'd had set aside. It was not connected to his; it was across the hall instead. Brand also assigned a house elf to him after a short consultation with Maer, who recommended Clip. Clip's first job was to retrieve the small suitcase Remus had left in the travel room. Brand left after giving Remus another hug and saying that all he had to do was ask Clip if he needed anything, including himself.

Brand returned to his own rooms, and a very curious Draco, who dragged him off into the bathroom for a shared bath in the very roomy tub and a long talk which persisted even after they had gotten into bed for the night.

The next morning Remus joined them for breakfast. His mood was uncertain, but he was decent enough company. Afterward, they went as a group to the small meeting room and took seats, with Brand at the foot of the table and Draco and Remus to either side of him. When his father arrived, he took the head. Lucius and Severus took the places to his sides, and the remainder of the table was filled with members of the inner circle as had been summoned.

"For those of you who are not yet aware," began Voldemort, "Remus Lupin has joined us. He is not marked and he is not an official part of the hierarchy. Nevertheless, you will all treat him with respect or face my displeasure. Now, you are all aware that we have already planned an attack on the Grangers for the purpose of making the Order think they have successfully won a round against us."

He looked around the table for a moment before saying, "Recent intelligence tells us that Dumbledore was perfectly willing to use Lupin's werewolf state against us during that attack. We are therefore here to plan a second, earlier, series of attacks against the Order. Brand will be in charge of taking out Alastor Moody. Several of you will be needed to assist Lupin in staging his capture, and a third set will be needed to handle a third, as yet undecided target to add confusion. Brand, who do you want?"

"Lucius," Brand said promptly, "and"—he paused for a split second on being kicked under the table—"Draco."

"So be it. Next order is the so-called capture of Remus Lupin. Is there anything about your home we should be aware of, Remus?"

Remus gave a half shrug. "It's in a muggle area, sir, but aside from there that's nothing special. The street is quiet, and I don't know of any alarms that Albus might have planted."

Voldemort nodded. "Very well. Severus, I'd like you to head that up. Pick whoever you feel is competent to assist you and Remus in trashing his former home after it's been checked over for anything Remus may have missed. Be as creative as you like."

"Yes, my lord."

"Now, the third party. This would be someone not directly connected to the Order, or someone completely uninvolved. I'm open to suggestions."

"Percy Weasley," said Lucius.


	12. Field Trips

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues. (Reviewer comment-inspired stuff included, though I'll be damned if I can remember what it was.)

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**— 12: Field Trips —**

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"He might be an interesting choice, my lord." Lucius paused for a heartbeat, then continued, "His family is certainly connected, but their relationship with him is at best strained. An attack on him, or his death, would cast a very unfavorable light on the situation. Perhaps"—Lucius paused again—"if his home were to contain some rather . . . sensitive information about the forces of Light?"

Voldemort smiled faintly. "If that were the case, then he'd best be dead when the team was finished."

Brand cleared his throat and said, "Percy is well known for being estranged from his family, preferring to have followed Fudge like a sycophant after an Oracle. It is no great stretch for people to believe he was secretly passing information to us. However, the nature of the information I would question. Would it suit our purposes better were he to be a traitor to them, or passing us erroneous information, in which case, naturally he would be hailed as having died a martyr. And, that is assuming he is chosen, though he does present a flexible choice."

"Quite correct. Are there any other suggestions?" said Voldemort. A number of names were presented, including Filch from the castle and any number of aurors, but none of them found as much favor as Lucius's original suggestion. "Lucius, would you like to comment, then?"

"With due respect"—he paused to nod at Brand—"I believe it would be more difficult to create a martyr out of the boy. It would involve a great deal of additional work that I don't think we have time for. If we were to plant sensitive information in his quarters and that came to light, it could be viewed in two ways. He was taking things home to study, in which case he might be portrayed as someone too curious for their own good and who was foolish enough to be noticed doing it by the wrong people, or as someone who was in fact passing it along to our side."

_:I don't see a problem with that, father.:_

Voldemort nodded. "One of you in the ministry can find something appropriate, then. Antonin, you will be heading up that attack. I'm sure it will appeal to your sense of humor. I expect you can manage to make it appear as though the information was overlooked during your efforts without being unduly obvious. Don't torture the boy, just kill him. If you absolutely must play with him, do it after."

"Yes, my lord."

Voldemort focused his gaze on Remus again. "What would you say to adding a bit more mayhem to the mix, Remus?"

"Sir?"

"Dumbledore was willing to use you against us, so why should we not use that against him?"

A slow smile blossomed on Remus's face. "Something more on the subtle side, I assume, sir?"

"Indeed. I was thinking . . . perhaps you could be a bit out of sorts around certain friends of yours, disconsolate even. Unable to come to a decision, torn as you are between what you're being asked to do and what you know is right."

Remus nodded. "Yes, I can do that, sir."

"Splendid. Remus will be _taken out_ first, so as to lend credence to the idea that we interrogated him. From there, the other two teams will head out to complete their missions. You can use Remus's house as the staging point. You'll move out on the evening of the sixth. If any of you have a problem with your plans see me or Brand. You may go."

Brand laid a hand on Remus's arm and leaned over to whisper, "It will be all right, Moony. Have lunch with me in my rooms?" When Remus nodded, he released him and sat back. The meeting quickly broke up, with everyone aside from Draco and Lucius leaving the room. Lucius stood long enough to move down and take the seat Remus had been using.

"Right. Moody is a detriment to us with that revolting magical eye, so he dies. I don't care that he was an auror, or that he's paranoid beyond belief, he can still be taken down. Frankly, I think three of us is overdoing things, but it's better to be safe."

Lucius and Draco nodded.

"There are only two things I care about doing before he dies. Get his leg and his eye away from him, and I don't care if getting his fake leg means ripping off what's left of the real remainder to do it. Any objections or suggestions?"

"Should we torture him, my lord?" asked Draco.

Brand shrugged. "Only if you want to. You can decimate his house for all I care. So long as he ends up dead and we aren't caught. Lucius, do you know anything about the wards at his home?"

"Extremely tight, my lord, but he's been lured out before."

Brand examined his nails for a moment and nodded. After another ten minutes of discussion, Lucius was released and Brand headed off to his rooms. Once inside he flopped onto the couch and snarled.

"What?" Draco asked, having silently followed him in.

"I was wondering if it was hypocritical of me to be so disgusted with Dumbledore for what he's trying to do to Remus when I have no compunction about killing others who get in my way."

"I believe there's a difference," Draco said, remaining standing.

"Explain."

"For one thing, Remus knows exactly what's going on now, and he's agreeable. As you said yourself, he could sit around all day and simply attempt to make you laugh and that would be enough. But that isn't exactly the point, is it. Dumbledore has thrown away a number of perfectly good, loyal people on his side simply to further his own personal agenda and manipulative tendencies. People said you had a saving people complex, but look at him. He plays God, with no remorse and no regret. You, on the other hand, have killed with a great deal more reason and cause."

Draco stepped forward and continued, "Don't mistake me. Archer was an innocent, and maybe in a better world he might not have died, but he has. That's what war is about. Archer's death wasn't personal. For that matter, the deaths of Moody and Weasley are a means to an end, and also not personal. They're simply in the way, as Fudge was. You aren't betraying them. Dumbledore does betray his people, often cruelly. I think it's an important distinction."

"I suppose so."

"You even go out of your way to protect the people you care about, even though they're on the other side. Maybe you aren't being honest about what happened to Harry Potter, but you aren't betraying them either. I realize that they might never believe if you told them the truth of these matters, but that's a different issue entirely."

Draco frowned for a moment and crossed his arms. "Speaking of friends, have you ever considered seducing the Weasley twins to our side?"

"Eh?" Brand shot Draco a narrow look.

"Not literally, you git. I'm just saying, out of that family, they seem like they could go either way."

Brand glared.

Draco sighed and said, "Right, I'm doing a very poor job of being clear. To your knowledge, are they officially connected to the other side?"

"I don't know."

"And what are the odds that their mother has tried to shelter them from everything and pitches a fit every time their names come up in relation to this war?"

"Very high, I expect."

"How useful do you think they could be?"

"I assume you're still standing because you want to be," Brand commented, then said, "That depends. I have no idea how they feel about homosexuality, and that is a rather large hurdle for a lot of people. If they were against it, there's not much point in approaching them. As for how useful they could be, I expect quite. Regardless of their poor showing on the OWLs, I know they've got brains and are able to use them, probably for far more than just pranks."

"All right. Do you ever leave the estate as yourself? I mean aside from the time we went to the cinema."

"Not usually, no. What, do you want me to go drop some hints?"

"Maybe. And perhaps Remus could fill in some of the gaps."

"Draco, I understand what you're getting at. I can think of others who might suit as well. However, at this point, it's becoming more clear that it may simply be well enough to make Dumbledore go down and find our own island to take over, one without muggle influences."

"And? Why not take your friends with you? The ones who could at least integrate, that is."

"Are they, though? They were friends of Harry Potter, not Brand Riddle. You know how it works, Draco. You should know that better than I do. Brand Riddle isn't _friends_ with anyone. Quite frankly, I'm surprised no one has kicked up a fuss about Remus being here. Yes, he's considered a dark creature, but so what? I've no doubt that if he wished to he could be very persuasive in getting other lycanthropes on our side, especially after what Dumbledore did to him, but that isn't why he's here."

"I think you're making too much of this. All I'm saying is that the twins could be useful, and it might make you happier if they were with us, even if you are our lord's son and heir."

"Perhaps. I'll consider it."

"That's all I ask, Brand."

-----

Over lunch Remus was happy enough to share his opinion of the twins. "I think they're gifted, brilliant, and utterly devious. I've often wondered why they weren't sorted into Slytherin."

"I can accept that, Moony, but is there any point in approaching them? Would they simply be better off apart from both sides?"

"You must know that isn't possible, strictly speaking. The Weasleys have very strong ties to Albus and the Light. Even if they aren't allowed into the Order, the twins are firmly entrenched in that mind set. Though, on reflection, I would not be surprised if Albus found a way to tamper with the sorting hat."

"If that's true, then why did it bother telling me I'd do well in Slytherin?" Brand countered.

"Isn't that obvious?"

"Don't make me hex you." Brand rolled his eyes in frustration. "You know very well that my strengths lie in raw power, flexibility, and on-the-fly reactions. Deep strategy is something I have difficulties with, and it took being hit over the head with the truth for me to understand what Dumbledore was willing to do to his Golden Child."

"If I'm your godfather, I get to tease you, so live with it," Remus said and smirked slightly. "In any case, if Albus has tampered with the sorting hat, then it's also likely he made sure you were prejudiced from the start, so having the sorting hat tell you that you'd do well in Slytherin would have a very good chance of making you react badly enough to strongly reject the placement, and make you very vulnerable in the bargain. With Albus as the leader of the Light, you would naturally look to him for guidance against the Slytherin—supposedly bad or evil—side of your personality."

Brand sighed and looked down, using his fork to absently push food around on his plate. "I feel so—" He coughed, then said, "This isn't about me. This is about the twins."

"No, it's about all of us. Yes, Lord Voldemort was an evil son of a bitch. Now he's a bit different, and I think we all have you to thank for that. Different enough that you were able to show me the truth, even if I didn't really want to hear it, and make decisions based on all of the information, or most of it. Do others deserve that same chance, Brand?"

"And if they were approached?" Brand asked, not looking up. "What would someone tell them? Certainly not how Harry Potter came to be captured and killed. You were different, Moony. You were already in danger of death, or worse. I had leeway with you. It would have broken my heart to kill you, but I would have if necessary. I can't just waltz into their shop and kidnap them, then try to get them to see the truth, and kill them if they reject it."

"No, but I can waltz into their shop looking haggard and stressed beyond belief and allow them to overhear some things. I'd suggest letting them accidentally stumble over a journal Harry wrote about his problems, but that might backfire. Of course, I'm supposed to be missing soon, presumed dead. I could hint that Sirius and I used to shag each other senseless at every opportunity."

Brand smiled faintly. "You could. Who do you plan on moping around, anyway?"

"Tonks, I think. She may be an auror, but she's still fairly young, with far fewer crushed ideals and dreams. I would expect her to react somewhat violently to the news."

"When?"

"Possibly the same day we trash my house."

"That's definitely a timing issue. If she runs straight to Dumbledore we might end up with company."

"She's on duty that night. After talking it over, Severus and I have agreed to take care of the house earlier in the day with the exception of the entrance. Presumably, I walk in not noticing anything odd, am captured, interrogated, then dealt with. Since I plan on asking her to keep quiet and please meet me again the next day, I think she'll mull it over and wait to see me again before making the decision to go to Albus."

"Perhaps it would be more to the point to be very restless and haunted when you see her and ask her to meet the next day to explain—after she's done her best to try to drag it out of you—and we leave a note in your house for her to find about how we got the truth out of you. I'm sure if we were as evil as people claim, people would believe we could get a lot of use out of a werewolf under the influence of the full moon."

"I can do that. Drop hints, but not come right out and say it. Tell her that I'm conflicted over something Albus asked me to do. I'm sure Severus could come up with a suitably nasty note to leave behind." Remus paused to give Brand a searching look. "You don't object to me subtly sounding out the twins?"

Brand shook his head. "If you want to try, I won't object. I simply worry that they might hurt you, that's all."

"What will you do if they react favorably?"

"I may consider dropping in as myself to check things out. Of course, if they react favorably, then perhaps you can invite them to drop by at the same time Tonks would the day after your, uh, kidnapping."

"The more the merrier?"

"As you say."

"Should you come with me?"

Brand tilted his head to the side and contemplated his roast potatoes. "In what capacity?"

"Unobtrusive guard. Seeming friend that I'm pouring my heart out to. I don't know. If we're whispering in the corner ostensibly looking at the merchandise and I look like hell, don't you think they'd be curious enough to eavesdrop?"

Brand grinned, just a little.

-----

Ninety-three Diagon Alley was a cheerful place, and even more cheerful if you were able to disable the trigger for the prank that was sure to hit you as you walked through the front door, but leave it active for the next poor soul. Naturally, that was exactly what Brand did before he and Remus passed into the cool interior of the shop.

The twins were lounging around behind the counter chattering away, pausing to look up to see which one of their pranks had gone off, and frowned when they realized the mechanism must have misfired. By then, Brand and Remus were facing away from them and headed toward a corner of the shop.

Brand thought that Remus looked especially haggard, though anyone who knew the man was a werewolf might have attributed that condition to the upcoming full moon. However, Remus was putting on a grand show of being in a state of mourning, and in some ways, he was. Most people would mourn when a person they trusted betrayed them. As they pretended to peruse the shelves, Remus turned a bit and started speaking in low tones.

"I don't know how much longer I can go on like this," he said, seemingly anguished.

Brand took the opportunity to place his hands on Remus's shoulders and turn him slightly so that his face would definitely be visible to the twins. After a pause he said, "Shh, I understand," he soothed. "But don't you think it's better to honor his memory by at least looking at what's in here? He wouldn't have wanted you to grieve for this long."

"But I loved him."

Brand could sense the twins' interest. In fact, he would have been surprised if they had refrained from using extendible ears. "Remus, he would not be happy to see you like this. Don't you think he's up there, watching over you, and waiting until you can be together again? If you loved him enough to be willing to die for him, shouldn't you be willing to live for him, too? I'm not suggesting you rush out and find a new lover."

Remus hiccupped slightly and turned toward the shelves as soon as Brand released his grip, then cast his eyes over the selection in front of them. "He would have liked these, I think."

"Then why don't we get some, and later on, we can have some fun in his memory." Brand was somewhat pleased to see the new items the twins had created, though a quick scan of the shop revealed that extendible ears were nowhere in sight as sale items. Perhaps they had more sense than most people gave them credit for. "And maybe later on you can think of something that would have brought him a smile, no?"

Remus picked up several things, then sidestepped over to the next shelf, looked for a minute, then shook his head and turned around completely to look at the offerings behind him. Brand stepped closer and pointed at a box of canary creams. "Those are an old favorite. I wonder what else they have along those lines."

"No, he would have wanted something a lot more subtle. Age, you know, it does that to you. Something slow acting, that creeps up on you and you don't realize what's happened until it's too late." Remus gave Brand a brief smile that crumpled almost immediately.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Brand's attention, so he asked, "Is there any truth to the myth that . . . they . . . mate for life?"

Remus turned his head to stare into Brand's eyes and gave the barest of winks before saying, "Didn't you ever see the mark I left on him?"

"It's not like he ever stripped down in front of me, so no. Well, then, I repeat that if you loved him enough to die for him, you should love him enough to keep living. There are others who love you, and need you." Brand thought the entire conversation was bizarre and wondered just how much of it the twins were listening in on. Hopefully, it would be enough.

Ten minutes later, spent mostly in silence, they approached the counter. Brand noticed with some satisfaction that the movements of the twins betrayed their activities.

"Hello, Fred, George," Remus said softly as he placed his selections down.

"Remus," they said as one, "you don't look so good."

"Tactful as always," Remus replied wryly. "This is Brand, by the way. Brand, please meet Fred and George, troublemakers."

Brand inclined his head and offered a bland social smile. "A pleasure to meet you both."

Fred gave Brand a once-over as George said, "Want a pepper-up, Remus? We have some in the back."

Remus shook his head. "I'll be fine. It's getting close. . . ." He let his gaze drop for a moment. "I just need additional rest. Brand thought a visit here would cheer me up some."

The twins changed their roles in a heartbeat, with Fred saying, "If you're sure. You could rest a bit here if you want."

"Your choice, Remus," Brand said with a warm smile and a comforting hand placed on his shoulder.

Remus made a negative movement with one hand. "I'd rather plan something out. It would keep my mind off things. Too bad I don't have the map, though."

The twins perked up slightly, leaning forward. "The map?" they asked.

Remus gave them a vaguely sly look which quickly disappeared back into weary grief. "Yes, that map. I'd make another, but. . . . Well, it can't be done by a single person."

The twins puzzled over that for a moment, exchanging a glance, then brightened. "Moony?"

"Who else? Obviously you two aren't as swift as I thought if it's taken you this long and that many hints to get it."

Fred and George jerked back as though hurt, but their eyes were sparkling with amusement. "Then you could make a map for anywhere?"

Remus shrugged. "Any place you have access to, I suppose," he said, then looked down at the counter pointedly.

"Right, we'll just total those up, shall we?" Several minutes later Remus was handed a bag in exchange for several galleons and given a cheerful double smile. "Heard anything interesting lately?"

Remus gave the twins a sharp look that lasted for several heartbeats, then relaxed. "Only things I'm not supposed to talk about."

The twins eyed him carefully, then nodded. Brand almost snorted at the transparency of their interest. He was quite sure they had caught the specific wording Remus had used. He kept his face quite neutral when they cast him a quick, speculative look, then glanced at Remus when he said, "I suppose we should get going. I know you've things to do, Brand."

"Only if you're ready," Brand replied agreeably, then followed him out of the shop after Remus gave the twins a wave good-bye. The second they found a quiet spot Brand said, "They were listening in."

"Then perhaps they aren't against it like the majority."

"Let's go back, then, so we can talk more freely."

Remus nodded and glanced around, then apparated. Brand gave him enough time to be clear and apparated as well, then walked with Remus back to his rooms. "They were using extendible ears, as I had hoped. Either they're very good actors, or they really don't care about it."

Remus set the bag down on a convenient table and nodded. "I'll owl them later, after I have that talk with Tonks."

"Something you said reminded me, though, of a little something I have. Actually, two somethings." Brand walked over to a cabinet and opened it, then removed a parchment and returned to Remus, hand extended.

"You took it with you?"

"Of course. I don't actually need it."

Remus gave him an odd look.

Brand grinned like a shark and sat down, snapping his fingers and ordering tea from Maer. Once they were both settled in with a cup he said, "I have my own map, you just can't see it. And I think, perhaps, I can set an alarm within it." He tilted his head to the side and considered Remus. "I'm not sure if you could manage it or not, to be honest."

"What do you mean?" Remus asked, carefully tucking the Marauder's Map into his pocket.

"Well, I'll show you first." Brand summoned up his personal map, then forced it into the visible range for Remus and expanded it.

"Merlin," Remus breathed, reaching out to touch it, then starting when his finger went straight through the image.

Brand took a few minutes to create a new memory strand—this one not blank—and fiddle with it before releasing it into the map. "I used memory strands, as you can see, to map the school, based on the map you made. It's just that I can hold those memories, if you want to call them that, apart from me as a viewable object. It functions almost exactly the same as what you did, except that I added some places you couldn't get to, and I can use more strands to alert me when a specific person enters the grounds, like Tonks. If I didn't know the person—hadn't met them—I probably couldn't. So, I'll know if Tonks goes straight to Dumbledore after you talk to her, see?"

"Other places? You mean the Chamber."

Brand nodded and smiled. "Absolutely. Rather an interesting place, actually, and it has an outside entrance."

"Oh, really."

"You were wonderful today, Moony. I'm really impressed," Brand said cheerfully.

"Thank you, and don't change the subject. Can we go see it?"

Brand grinned and shrugged.

_:Father?:_

_:Yes, son?:_

_:Any objections if Moony and I go on a field trip to the Chamber?:_

_:No, though you might want to take Draco with you.:_

_:Of course! He'd be ever so upset at being left out.:_

_:Severus might also be interested.:_

_:All right. Thank you, father.:_

_:Have fun.:_

"You don't mind if Draco and Severus come along, do you?"

"I'm sure they're just as curious as I am."


	13. A Few Minor Details

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 01 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues. (Reviewer comment-inspired material included.)

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**— 13: A Few Minor Details —**

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"Something occurs to me, though," Remus said with a slight frown.

"Yes?"

"Percy is supposed to die. I'm not saying he shouldn't or that he should. However, his death will definitely have an effect on other people. Specifically, the twins."

"You think that they would turn against the possibility we offer because of it?"

"Well, I realize they don't exactly welcome their brother with open arms, Brand, but he is family. Would an alternative be worth discussing before the plans are enacted?"

Brand shifted in his chair and sighed. "You raise a valid point. Percy was chosen because he was convenient and would make more of an impact. If we simply—"

Remus looked at him curiously for the abrupt stop.

_:Father, where are you presently?:_

_:My study. Why?:_

_:I believe there's something we need to discuss. I'll be bringing Remus with me.:_

_:As you say.:_

Brand pushed to his feet and said, "Come on, then. We'll go see father."

When they walked in, Brand slumped into a chair and waved Remus to the other. "Remus has brought up something I feel we ought to talk about. Percy is one of our targets, and that's fine. But, if we had an eye on potentially recruiting other members of his family, our actions may well serve to block that possible goal. Yes, we all know that Percy is not universally loved by his family, but he is family."

"I see. What exactly, then, do you propose?" asked Voldemort.

"I'm not sure, though it does seem to be a waste of good potentials. We could change the target, but it was hard enough to agree on one in the first place. Still, perhaps we shouldn't kill him."

"Dolohov would be most disappointed," commented Voldemort blandly.

Brand snorted and gazed at his father steadily. "As if I care. I'm sure you can find plenty of targets for Dolohov to maim and torture that actually deserve such treatment. Yes, I know—he's the one responsible for the deaths of Mrs Weasley's brothers. It is all very poetic, I'm sure."

Voldemort smiled faintly and turned to Remus. "As you were the one to bring up this point, do you have any suggestions as to alternatives?"

Remus seemed far more comfortable in Voldemort's presence, which Brand thought was quite a good thing. Remus shrugged a shoulder and said, "You could have him obliviated, sir. And by that, I mean for a huge chunk of time. It would be, or could be, a backward way of helping out the Weasley family while still accomplishing one of your goals."

Voldemort became quite contemplative at that and eventually turned his attention to his son. "Your thoughts?"

"I guess that depends on how much of his memory was removed. It was a bit over two years ago, I think, that Percy first became a real problem for the Weasleys, and Harry Potter was one of the major causes of the strife, not to mention Fudge. That would be quite a lot to deal with. Can Antonin even manage such a feat without permanently damaging him?" He paused for a moment, then continued, "However, I do believe it's an acceptable alternative. He would still be under some suspicion due to whatever we might plant there, but would be unable to remember that he had broken away from his family. That might make it easier for them to reconcile, and still allow us to poach some of them out from under Dumbledore's nose."

"You raise a valid point. Dolohov is not known for his control. Though, how important do you think his family is? Are they worth changing the plans over?"

"The twins are really brilliant when it comes to some things, and they are purebloods. Frankly, I would not even care if Percy were recruited. He is quite probably good at grunt work and boring paperwork if past experience is anything to go by. However, he can be easily swayed or intimidated by authority, and is dogmatic."

Brand aimed an arch look at his father before saying, "Even Ginny is a likely candidate, though I am not so sure she would easily forgive you for trying to use her during her first year. She is quite the spell caster, though."

"I don't know about Ron. He can be as dogmatic in his views as Percy," said Remus.

Brand shook his head. "It would take some doing to recruit Ron. A massive amount of brainwashing, I expect. As much as he was a friend, he was also willing to believe the worst of Harry when it suited him and his quirks. Perhaps that's simply his age. I don't know."

"Let me think on it, then," said Voldemort. "If I decide to alter the plans, I will inform you, and we will have to decide who shall be the one in charge of that mission rather than Dolohov."

Brand nodded. "Thank you, father. I guess, then, that we shall go on our little field trip."

"Before you go, though. . . ."

"Yes, father?"

"Why did this come up in the first place?"

"Oh, Draco. I guess I was feeling a bit morose, wondering if I was being a hypocrite about some things. Draco took it upon himself to explain his thoughts on the matter. He also brought up that Dumbledore often throws away perfectly good people, and used the twins as an example. Later on, Moony and I talked about it and he pointed out that more people than just himself should be given the same opportunity to see the truth of things if possible. I mean, if we did go ahead with the idea of starting our own community or country, shouldn't we be taking quality people with us who would be able to integrate? It was after we paid a visit to their shop to sound them out cautiously on the topic of homosexuality that it even came up."

"I assume, then, that they showed no bad reaction to whatever it was you did."

Brand shook his head. "No. Remus was quite the little actor and I know they were eavesdropping."

"All right. I will consider this carefully."

Brand stood and blew a kiss to Voldemort, then turned and left, Remus close behind him. Outside he snapped his fingers and when Maer appeared asked, "Do you know where Severus and Draco are?"

"They is being in the garden, master."

"Thank you, Maer. That was all." Once they had found the others Brand said, "How would you like to join us on a trip to the Chamber of Secrets?"

-----

The outside entrance wasn't that difficult to find, and easy enough for Brand to open. The tunnel that led down into the Chamber was dank and echoed oddly, but that was a minor consideration.

When they had reached the basilisk's lair Remus asked, "Why did you map this, anyway?"

"It was back when I was considering the idea of blowing up Hogwarts, to be honest. I was feeling more than a little vindictive at the time. Either way, it having an outside entrance meant that we could storm the castle from here, since it isn't included in the wards. It would be a little tricky getting that many people up to the second floor entrance, but not impossible, and the only person normally there to raise any kind of alarm is Myrtle."

"That's assuming that the wards don't already warn Albus when a Death Eater enters the grounds," Remus pointed out.

"Yes, well, if they did then I expect they were modified to not warn for Severus. Still, it doesn't really matter, since I can't conceive of a reason at this time to use this as a staging area, and that assumes that Albus was even able to change them to begin with." Brand shrugged and brushed back his hair, then glanced at Severus. "I never really knew—are the wards here static, or do they need to be renewed every so often?"

"Static, I believe, though I cannot say for sure. But that does not mean that Albus has not placed alarms in certain places. You mapped this place as Archer?" he asked, then continued when Brand nodded. "Well, it is possible that he had one in place and only learned that the entrance was used after the fact. For all we know, he's done something to it because of that."

Brand scowled. "Well I sure as hell can't check from this side. I don't dare even to open the entrance, then. It may be that sometimes I outsmart myself, but don't you dare repeat that."

Draco snickered and stepped back, out of reach. "We're safe enough down here, though. Is there even anything interesting left?"

Brand shot him a dark look and said, "Not really. Well, the remains of the basilisk are there, but it's fairly well decayed. I don't know if you can use any of it, Severus. Still, Remus was curious to see the place, so why not? This was her lair, by the way, though I think it was much more than that once. The Chamber itself is rather nice, if you like serpents."

"Then let's go see."

The exit sloped and it was only a minute before they were standing at a blank wall. Brand took a moment to open it with a few hissed words, then peered over the edge. "Anyone need help in getting down?" he asked, then nodded when everyone shook their heads and levitated himself down.

When they were all safely in the Chamber he said, "I think that statue is awfully strange. Somehow I can't imagine that Salazar looked like that, and certainly not so old, but who knows? Perhaps I should ask father how he found this place to begin with."

The rest of the visit was fairly mundane, and Brand kept them well away from the inside entrance, not being exactly sure where the wards did kick in. Severus gathered up what he could from the corpse before they left and they all returned to the estate simply by apparating there.

Severus immediately set off to put away his new things, and Brand, Draco, and Remus repaired to Brand's rooms.

"I suppose I could always sneak into the castle and check out the inside entrance," Brand said as he flopped onto the sofa. "It kind of bothers me that I don't know now if using it is safe."

"At least I got to see it," Remus said. "Rather boring in the end, but hey, how many people can say they've been there and lived to tell about it?"

"That would be . . . seven people?" Brand said, then smirked and added, "Or do I count as two?"

"If the opportunity arises, check," inserted Draco. "If not, why worry? If you don't need to use the Chamber, does it matter? Unless something goes drastically wrong with your plan for Dumbledore, just let it go."

"I suppose you're right. I shouldn't waste time agonizing over things I can't control or might not need to. Though, I wonder what father will decide about Percy."

Draco arched a brow and gave him a somewhat accusatory look.

Brand rolled his eyes in response. "I did promise I'd consider it, Draco, and I did. Honestly. Remus and I talked about it as well, then ended up going to see the twins to sound them out on some things, then brought up your issue with father."

"Oh," Draco said, leaning back. "I'm happy to hear that."

"As well you may, but don't think that father will simply up and change the plans. He may not care enough about recruiting those people to toss things around."

"Brand?"

He turned his head to gaze at Remus and quirked up a brow.

"There's something I'd really like to ask you."

Brand tilted his head to the side quizzically. "Yes?"

"How do you actually feel about your plan to kill Alastor?"

Brand blinked and straightened. "I suppose that depends. Well, it depends on circumstance. As it stands, Moody is simply in the way, as Draco put it earlier. There's nothing personal here, but I cannot always allow the fact that I don't like killing people to interfere. If you think about it, think back, I believe you'll realize that there's been very few deaths since Harry Potter died."

"I understand that. But I'm speaking on a personal level."

Brand gave Remus an odd smile and said, "You may or may not be interested to know that I'm not innocent, Moony. I have killed a man. Of course, he did rather upset me at the time. Does that make you think less of me?"

Remus considered that for a moment before saying, "I assume you had good reason, whether or not I might agree."

Brand arched a brow. "Moony, please don't mince words with me. Not in here."

After a slight sigh Remus said, "I don't know. I don't like to think I'm so naïve, but it really does depend on why you did, or why you would."

"All right. I have participated in the deaths of several people indirectly, and one directly. If you want to split hairs then you could say I've killed people like Fudge and Archer. If not, then I'm responsible for only one. As for him, well, he was a complete bastard. I'm not sure which is the more correct way to do this, but I think I'll let the actual encounter speak for itself. If you have questions after that point, I'll be happy to try to answer them."

Brand summoned a pensieve to his hand and whipped out his wand, then drew forth and deposited a memory into it. He was careful to include even up to the point that his father had summoned Severus and Lucius to them, though not through the portion where they had been given their instructions. He leaned forward long enough to pass the pensieve over, then sat back to wait.

When Remus was aware again he gave Brand a very thoughtful look. "I think I understand that the most obvious reasons are not really the most compelling."

Brand inclined his head and waited.

"Then this is about several things," he said, passing the pensieve back so that Brand could regain the memory. "Obviously, he was highly insulting and went openly against your father, as you said. And, of course, he was abusive. You killed him to prove a point."

"Essentially, though at the time I admit I was very, very pissed off and might not have been entirely rational in my thinking. I'm not so different from before, Moony. What he said hurt me, but that's not a good reason to kill a man. On the other hand, having gotten to that point, I had little other choice than to punish him. The death itself was a warning and an example, with an unexpected bonus."

"But not gratuitous death."

Brand shook his head. "I can't remember the last time one of our people was tortured or killed, aside from him. Not aside from the necessary. I'm sure you realize that one of our number died on the day Harry did, but it was a willing death."

"And the bonus?"

"I stopped his heart. No wand, no gestures, just death. As I had wanted to know if I could do such to Dumbledore down the road, I consider it a bonus that I had someone to test it on."

"And the indirects?"

"Cornelius Fudge was no friend to anyone but himself. Now we actually have a competent minister. Archer was more of a necessary evil. Somehow I don't think I as Brand Riddle could have waltzed into Dumbledore's office and been hired on as the Defense professor over tea and crumpets, so Archer spent a year in a cell while I took his place. Fortunately, Severus will be the contact this year, so no one else need die for that particular reason."

"Moody?"

Brand gave a slight shrug. "I know. I'll have to live with that as well. In order to play the game, some people will die, even if by accident. I can't be a baby, Remus. I can't sit back and watch our people do things I can't bring myself to do. I can't ask them to do things I won't. I can't feel above it all and pretend that by not getting my own hands bloody that everything is all right and I'm a swell fellow for staying clean. In the end, none of this should matter anymore. It shouldn't be necessary."

He paused and cast a look at Remus. "I know . . . it's hard, Moony. Though, father knew from the start that I believe lives are precious—all lives—and that we needed to choose carefully, lest I be quite likely to suicide rather then steep myself in gratuitous evil. As you saw, I was ready to die. Death was far more acceptable than to continue letting Dumbledore use me as his personal marionette. I tend to think, with you here, that I won't be able . . . to fall."

Remus gave him a thoughtful look, then nodded. "I think I understand. And yes, you can be sure I'll always bring things up that disturb me. The last thing I'd want to be is at odds with you—I love you—but. . . ."

Brand nodded. "I promise you I won't take offense. I know you aren't the type to raise a fuss just because you could. Your concerns are valid and your wish to understand as well. And, I know you aren't silly enough to raise them in a public forum." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, then flicked his gaze over to Draco.

"What is it?"

"I was thinking. . . . Suppose father does agree to spare Percy—do you think that you and your father could handle Moody without me?"

"I'm not sure," Draco confessed. "Keep in mind, I've not had many chances to see father in action. It might be as well to send others along, such as Dolohov, especially since he might be a bit miffed to have his toy taken away."

Brand chuckled. "I just thought that it might be wiser for me to lead the group against Percy. I'm fairly confident I could erase his memory such as described without much risk. And I could bring you along, Moony, if you like, or even Severus."

Draco snorted. "There are times when I wonder if there's anything you can't do."

Brand rolled his eyes, then waggled a finger at the blond. "Now, now, even I'm not perfect. I expect you recall that thrilling little encounter in Hogsmeade? Being blind was no fun, though it was nice having you help lead me back to the castle." He fluttered his lashes at his mate and raised a hand to his forehead as though he might swoon.

Draco snickered, then responded to the look of confusion on Remus's face. "Our lord sent a group to Hogsmeade while Brand was posing as Archer. Right before Halloween, actually. Things would have been fine if they hadn't used a flash bomb in order to escape. Brand was blind for quite a while because of it. Though, I had no idea who he was then."

When Remus turned his gaze on him, Brand said, "Yes, and had a thundering headache to boot. And I'm sure you can imagine that I was none too pleased to end up in the infirmary, again. I did complain to father about that, but asked him to please not get too creative in his displeasure. They didn't know it would be me fighting them, after all. I was only there because of the roster, you know? Staff on duty to keep a weather eye out. It served to show that I'm not bloody omnipotent. If I were, then I'd be a god, right? Even Superman had a wee problem with kryptonite."

"Huh?" Draco gave him a bewildered look.

Remus snickered and looked over. "It's a muggle thing, Draco. And it'd be easier to rent the film and have you watch it rather than try to explain."

Draco continued to look bewildered when he asked, "You can rent a whole cinema?"

Brand slapped a hand over his mouth and let Remus explain. "Er, you don't. Though obviously, you can go to one and see whatever is playing. You can also rent a film to watch in your own home if you have the right machine to play it. Anyway, all Brand is saying is that even superheros have weaknesses."

"Then why didn't he just say so?"

Brand exchanged a look with Remus, then shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Draco."

Remus chuckled, then gazed at Brand and said slowly, "There is something else I had on my mind." When Brand raised his brows he said, "I've noticed something. I find it—well—it's odd. I've been in a number of meetings, and now I'm here, and things are so . . . not the same."

"Never having been in a meeting aside from getting filled in a tiny bit back before fifth year. . . ."

Remus nodded. "Your father is very . . . open. He isn't just barking out orders and expecting people to follow them. He actually seems to care what his people think, and expects that they'll be able to contribute good ideas and suggestions. He also doesn't just dismiss things out of hand."

Brand tilted his head to the side. "I can't say what he was truly like before I arrived. However, I will agree with your assessment of the present. Of course, all I ever got out of Albus was lessons in sidestepping and dancing around the subject. Father does listen, though he may not always agree. And he isn't. . . ." Brand looked off to the side and furrowed his brow. "For example, it was the original plan for father and the inner circle to determine how to take care of Dumbledore. I suddenly had an idea of my own, explained it, and he's decided to go with it. He liked it. He wasn't offended."

Remus nodded and propped his head against one hand. "Yes, well, Albus is. I never really felt as though what I had to say held any real importance. I was only important because of who my friends were. Yes, it was damn nice of him to allow me to attend Hogwarts and all that, but it could also be seen as a long-term plan to make me see him in a very good light and possibly bring more werewolves over to his side."

He paused and sighed softly. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that, here I feel included, a part of things. So yes, you were right that day. Your father isn't what I thought he was, not at all. Not now, at least."

"Well," Draco offered, "it's as you say. There are times when I wonder if Dumbledore is so kind to muggleborns and such simply because it builds his power base and he's being expedient. For all we know he can't stand them, and for all we know, he thinks of them as good fodder for the front lines."

Brand shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "He made it quite plain to me that he saw me as a tool, and by that I mean back the night Sirius died. He said . . . he'd made a mistake. He made the mistake of starting to care more about my happiness than he should considering what I was expected to do. If I hadn't been so upset that night I might have realized what he was implying. He didn't expect to start to like me. He expected to use me, plain and simple. He admitted that I came to Hogwarts looking not so good, but as I was all right, that was fine. So long as I held together long enough to fulfill my purpose, I'm sure he thought his neglect was acceptable."

He snorted, then continued, "And for that matter, think about what he was actually teaching us during those years. Were we punished for sneaking out after curfew and going after the stone, breaking who knows how many rules? No. We got rewarded, and at the expense of Slytherin house. Were we punished for theft in second year? Granted, we weren't caught, but still. Punished for impersonating people, sneaking into the Slytherin common room? Were we told to behave ourselves third year? Absolutely not. He even told us what to do! Illegal use of a time-turner! Aiding and abetting a known criminal! Slowly but surely, we were being taught that it was perfectly all right to break the rules, the laws, whatever, if it suited the cause, his cause. Talk about moral decay."

Draco was giving him a very accusatory look.

Brand flapped his hand and said, "I'll explain later. I know I'm sounding more than a little cynical here, but I have to wonder at times if Dumbledore gave us the nudge to save Sirius simply because he saw him as another tie to bind me."

"He was," Remus said slowly, "the head of the Wizengamot. I have often tried not to think about the fact that he could have brought Sirius to trial on the strength of that position, and had him freed." Then he sat up and said briskly, "But I didn't mean to make you morose, Brand."

"It's all right, Moony. Just thinking about Dumbledore frosts my cookies. There will always be a part of me that believes I was responsible for Sirius's death, though if Bellatrix were to fall off a cliff tomorrow, I'd probably laugh myself silly."

"I can't argue with that, Brand."


	14. Union

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

* * *

**— 14: Union —**

* * *

"Hmm, speaking of which, I suppose I should apologize to Severus."

"Sorry?"

"The theft. Ron and I caused a distraction so Hermione could slip into his office and liberate some boomslang skin." Brand let his head fall back against the sofa. "As I said, I've been in the Slytherin common room. We made polyjuice potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, though it was mainly Hermione who managed it. After we secured hairs from the right people, we waltzed right on in, so to speak, though lumbered might be a more accurate assessment."

He lifted his head to glance at Draco and continued, "You may or may not recall a conversation you had with Crabbe and Goyle about the Heir of Slytherin on Christmas day second year. We thought you might know who it was, that's all. The point is, he's always suspected Harry of being the thief. I thought perhaps he might like to know the truth."

He paused, then said, "Of course, he also suspects that Harry stole gillyweed from him as well, but that was Dobby, and I didn't know anything about it until Dobby came to shake me out of bed the day of the second task to give it to me and make sure I actually arrived."

The corner of Remus's mouth was twitching, but it was Draco's thoughtful look that had Brand say, "Hm?"

"And what about Granger?"

"Sorry? What about her?"

"Have you considered whether or not she would switch sides?"

"Either you've mellowed, Draco, or you're being extraordinarily nice to me today."

Draco snorted. "She isn't all _that_ bad, Brand. Weasley, on the other hand. . . . In any case, she is quite intelligent, and could be very valuable. She's also muggleborn, which means it's very likely that she won't hold wizarding prejudices against gays. Assuming that is the case, if she knew what Dumbledore did to Harry, I think she would feel betrayed as well."

Brand combed his hair back and considered. "I'm not sure how father would react to that."

"You can always ask. The worst he can do is say no."

"Yes, I know. But we're currently planning a fake attack because of her. I realize she won't be harmed, but. . . ." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "And we'd be right back where we were with the twins—ascertaining whether or not she's prejudiced."

"Well, she isn't a member of the Order—yet," said Remus. "For some odd reason, Albus tends to wait until people are at least eighteen and out of school, not that it makes any sense in her case. At any rate, no matter how valuable she could be, she was another tie to bind Harry in some ways, so he may not care about her at this point."

"All right, but that doesn't explain how we'd get at her."

Remus shrugged. "I'm sure we could think of something. Though, if she found out what Albus wanted me to do, that would be another step in the right direction. Except, I don't see how that could be accomplished offhand. You're right—it doesn't answer the question about her feelings."

"I can't very well imagine father sending out love notes to all Order members," Brand said dryly.

"You could do something a bit odd, Brand."

"Such as?" he asked Draco.

"Visit her. Show her memories, like you did with Remus. If she reacts badly—for us, I mean—obliviate her. Of course, use that little trick of yours first, so even if the charm was broken, she couldn't reveal anything. I'm not saying you should come right out and say who you once were."

"She might attempt to find employment within the ministry, Brand," Remus offered. "Depending on who you have hiding in there, you might be able to take the place of one of our own people for an interview. Place coercions on her, show her the memories, and go from there. Either way, you can make sure she gets the job she wants, right?"

"I suppose so. Mind you, the potential list of people who know who the hell I was seems to keep growing." Brand buried his face in his hands.

"Don't you consider her family?" Draco asked leadingly.

Brand peeked out from between his fingers and sighed. "Yes, but it isn't as though I felt that way about you or Severus. Are you sure you're feeling okay, Draco?"

"Don't be absurd. I almost never do anything without an ulterior motive," Draco said loftily.

"Right. Sure. I don't want to think about this right now. I'm hungry. Let's eat."

-----

Shortly after breakfast the next day, Voldemort summoned Brand to his private study. Once Brand was seated, his father said, "Well, my son, the girl has arrived. Once she has settled into the provided suite, we can proceed with the plans for gaining you an heir. Do you have any wish to meet her?"

Brand tilted his head back slightly, then said, "No. I'd really rather not, father. I'm having enough trouble with the idea of being a father myself at my age."

Voldemort smirked and nodded. "If you feel comfortable with it, Severus can handle the actual details, then. Because we do not want to have to modify the memories of too many people, her condition will be concealed. I do suggest that you ought to see her at least once—another guise will suffice—to place coercions to prevent her from mentioning it. Once she has fulfilled her role, I or you can wipe out the pertinent memories. As it is, she has no idea who she is playing brood mare for."

"I suppose. I could go in to introduce Severus to her. As you say, I could be someone else. After that, though. . . ."

"Understood. I have not yet heard any word from Lucius on Draco's heir. Have you?"

Brand shook his head. "Aside from him writing to Draco that day and saying Narcissa was in an agreeable mood, no." Then he sighed and gave his father a speculative look.

"What is it?"

"Sometimes I wonder. Ever since I told Draco who I was, he keeps coming up with such odd suggestions, things for me to consider."

"How do you mean?"

Brand shrugged. "He suggested the twins. Now he's suggesting Hermione. He even brought up family, possibly because of Remus. It's like . . . he wants me to be happy. Not just because of being with him, but. . . . I don't know. It confuses me."

Voldemort gave him an odd look, then said, "I think it is safe to say you were right about one thing. Your childhood. . . . Brand, I believe you are missing the obvious in this instance."

"Huh?"

"Draco loves you. He just might not have said it in those exact words."

Brand blinked several times and gave his father an incredulous look.

"As far as that goes, if you wish to consider bringing your friend Hermione in, I will not object. I have faith you can figure out a reasonable plan for doing so which will not put us at risk. And as I've said before, if you are happy, so am I."

"Even though she's a muggleborn?"

"You're the one who won't let me sink into further hypocrisy, Brand," countered Voldemort. "Would I be any better if I were to deny you this? Of course, you're also the one proposing we create our own country and kidnap all muggleborn children to be raised in an entirely magical setting. If I can even consider that as an option, it would be hypocritical of me to say that she should be denied considering who she is."

Brand shook his head for several long moments. "I really _am_ a bad influence on you."

Voldemort chuckled. "I think I've been an influence on you as well, son."

Brand wrinkled his nose and shrugged a shoulder. "You really think he does?"

"I consider it to be quite obvious from what you've told me. Perhaps you should think about that."

"Where is she being housed?" Brand asked.

"The tower, top three floors. The sooner you get your visit over with, the sooner you can put her out of your mind."

"As you wish, father." Brand rose and circled the desk long enough to kiss Voldemort's cheek, then left in a somewhat distracted state. A half hour passed as he wandered around aimlessly, considering what his father had said about Draco.

He was brought out of his thoughts abruptly on hearing, "Are you quite all right, my lord?"

Brand focused on who was standing before him, slightly off to the side. "What? Oh, sorry, Severus. I'm fine, I think." He scratched the back of his head, then said, "Listen, there's something I'd like to talk to you about. Come up to my rooms?"

"If you like, my lord."

Brand gave an absent nod and wheeled around, striding quickly toward his rooms. As they approached the third floor he paused long enough to adjust the wards and continued on to his suite and in, then sank down onto the couch. Several moments passed before it occurred to him to wave Severus to a seat.

"I don't know how much father has mentioned to you, so I'll just assume he's said nothing. In order for me to have an heir, father has located a suitable girl. She's arrived. Aside from placing coercions on her, I don't particularly want to have anything to do with her. However, I was hoping you could consent to handle the . . . details. Someone has to, er. . . . And monitor her health. Would that be all right with you?"

Severus tilted his head to the side. "I do not object, my lord. I can understand the need for discretion."

Brand waved his hand in vague irritation. "Stop that in here, please. I will take you to her, to introduce you, but I won't go as myself. She has no idea who she's here for."

"All right."

"Obviously, I have no idea how something like this is accomplished. But, there's something else, though." Brand glanced around, then waved his hand at both the connecting door and the one by which they had entered. Looking back at Severus he sighed and said, "This may sound silly, but, father seems to think that Draco actually loves me."

"Of course."

"Eh?"

Severus gave him a patient look. "It is quite obvious to anyone who bothers to look past the surface."

Brand groaned and dropped his head back.

"You are gifted with a rather skewed sense of perception, Brand," Severus said with some amusement. "It's like having selective hearing, except for you, it's more like selective sight."

"You're making fun of me again."

"Why, yes, I believe I am."

"Fine. Then I guess I am blind."

"Brand, I get the sense you are not sure how to tell how you actually feel about it."

"This has got to be one of the more embarrassing conversations I've ever had in my life," he remarked. "But I suppose you're right. Desire is one thing."

Severus shrugged. "It isn't as though I've had much experience myself in that arena. However, let me ask you a question. Do you love our lord?"

"Well, yes."

"So do you feel similarly toward Draco, but with desire?"

Brand lifted his head and frowned thoughtfully. "I . . . suppose so." Then he shook his head. "That reminds me." He gave Severus a slightly sheepish smile. "There are a few things you might be interested to know. Maybe."

"Oh?

"Mm. Some things from the past. Silly, perhaps, but whatever. Just to set the record straight, it was not Harry Potter who stole either boomslang or gillyweed from your stores, Severus. In the first instance, it was Hermione, though I did help provide a distraction at the time. In the second instance, it was Dobby. And, I never did apologize to you for intruding on your privacy during my fifth year. I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

"Indeed. Yes, I can. I would like to believe we are long since past that time. However, though I believe I know what the gillyweed was for. . . ."

Brand grinned. "Hermione made polyjuice potion. While we didn't really think Draco was the one who'd opened the Chamber, we did think he might know who it was. So . . . we decided to find out. Ron and I went in as Crabbe and Goyle, to the Slytherin common room. As it turned out, Draco didn't know. But then, he wouldn't have."

"Granger made polyjuice in her second year?"

"Yup. Shocking, huh?"

"To say the least. I shudder to think what else you three may have done that I was not informed of."

Brand snickered. "Maybe someday we can sit down and I'll—" A knock interrupted him, coming from the connecting door. "Right." He gestured at the doors, unlocking them, then called out, "It's open!"

The door opened a moment later and Draco sauntered in, obviously curious, but said nothing other than a hello to Severus as he took a seat next to Brand.

"You might be interested to know, Draco, that father says she's here."

"That was quicker than I expected. So. . . ?"

"Severus has graciously consented to assist with that. With any luck, the initial proceedings won't take too long. Anyway, I'll be taking Severus up a bit later today."

"I assume you'll be preven—"

"Yes. And her condition will be concealed. We don't need anyone asking awkward questions."

Draco nodded and smiled. "Then hopefully we'll hear good news from father soon about my own situation, so to speak."

"Also. . . ."

Draco looked at him sharply.

Brand made a show of inspecting his nails until he was nudged sharply in the side. "Hm? Oh, right. I thought about your suggestion, and mentioned it to father. He doesn't object, so long as I don't put us at risk."

"Oh, really," Draco drawled. "So, will you be checking to see if she's interested in a job at the ministry?"

Severus arched a brow in blatant curiosity.

"I think so. I'm not sure where else Hermione would look for work to be honest."

Severus shifted impatiently.

"Aside from suggesting we try to recruit the Weasley twins, Draco suggested Hermione as well," he explained briefly.

"Not the younger Weasley?"

Brand shook his head. "It's doubtful he would be able to adjust. Besides, I don't even know that Hermione could."

"Well, I won't presume to question that decision."

"It'd be as easy to ask Remus, actually, about that."

"Brand, would you like me to check with our people in the ministry to see if she's approached them?" Draco asked.

Brand gave him a grateful smile. "Would you?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise."

Severus shot Brand a knowing look.

"Thank you. Well, much as I dislike the idea of even meeting her . . ." He sighed. "I suppose now is as good a time as any. Care to go for a little stroll, Severus?"

-----

Draco found Brand stretched out on the couch that evening and dropped to the floor beside. "Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Draco, I have an important question for you." Brand rolled over onto his side so he could see the blond more easily. "I've been thinking, and I believe that this is the right time to ask."

"All right. But . . . you're being coy again."

Brand smiled slightly. "Maybe I'm being so on purpose?"

"Would you get to the point!?" Draco reached out and poked him in playful frustration.

"Do you think it's time to make that mark permanent?"

"W-what?"

Brand grinned. "Did I stutter?"

Draco gave him an affronted look. "You _are_ in a good mood, aren't you. Does that mean. . . ?"

"I don't know. Does it? You aren't exactly being forthcoming yourself. At least, not directly. So, do you?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Are you busy right now?"

Draco snorted. "Yes, actually. I was planning to wash my hair. But if it's really important to you. . . ."

Brand levered himself up to a sitting position and stretched out his hand to the side of Draco's neck. "I asked because I finally realized how you feel, and how I feel. I guess neither one of us is very good at saying certain things. Hold still, please."

As before, he barely touched the skin, concentrating on altering the image already present. He did not change its appearance so much as its composition, retracing the outline so that it appeared to sink slightly into Draco's skin and take on a distinctly metallic cast rather than the previous grey.

"All right, that's it. Are you . . . interested in celebrating?"

Draco faced him again and arched a brow. "Well, I was going to wash my hair, as I said. Maybe you could help me with that?"

"I think I could be persuaded." Brand stood up and extended his hand again, this time to pull Draco to his feet, and lead him through the bedroom and into the bathroom. There, they undressed each other slowly, pausing frequently to kiss the rapidly appearing portions of exposed skin.

Draco was very happy to end up sitting between Brand's legs and have his hair washed for him, and indeed, every part of his body. He was even kind enough to return the favor. Once they were nicely relaxed, they adjourned to the bedroom and stretched out on the bed for something a little more intensive.

Of course, Brand had never actually had sex. Draco had, and he was more than happy to show his mate everything he needed to know.


	15. Developments

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues. And right about this point I start cursing over lack of blockquote.

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**— 15: Developments —**

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Brand woke up curled around Draco, which was a fine thing in his opinion. He was a bit sore, perhaps, but in a very good mood nevertheless. Draco had been very thorough in showing Brand everything he knew about inducing delirious pleasure in another. Being young, though, Brand was able to take that knowledge and apply it in kind some time later. Of course, it was later than normal that morning, but he really didn't mind having been so self-indulgent.

However, he realized that it was getting very close to the point when the triad mission would be carried out and his father had not yet gotten back to him about Percy.

_:Father?:_

_:Finally up, I see.:_

_:Ahem. I was wondering if you had come to a decision about Percy.:_

_:Maybe. Should I assume that you enjoyed yourself last night?:_

_:Father! If you want to know that badly, sift through my mind. After all, you were curious enough to kiss me once.:_

_:Mm. Since it is nearly lunch time, why don't you join me.:_

_:All right. Let me actually get up, then. I'll be with you shortly.:_

Brand dropped a kiss on Draco's neck, then gently disentangled himself and went to take a shower. When he came back out into the bedroom his mate was almost burrowed under the covers. After pulling on the first set of clothes that came to hand, Brand slipped out quietly and left his suite, heading for his father's room.

He was greeted with a definite smirk, so Brand forwent his usual greeting and sat down across from his father, a dark look on his face. "You needn't be so damn smug, you know."

"As you say," Voldemort replied, then nodded at the house elf which popped in with their meal. Once it was gone he said, "All right, you wished to discuss Percy. After a great deal of thought, I have decided that he can be spared, but it will have to be you that alters his memories. You are the only one I would trust to have enough control to handle it, aside from myself."

"I anticipated that, actually. That's why I asked Draco if he thought he and his father could handle Moody on their own. He suggested that Dolohov be moved to that team just in case."

Voldemort arched a brow.

"He's never really had much chance to see his father in action."

Voldemort nodded. "That is not a problem. I will let Lucius and Antonin know of the change in plans today. But, I sense that there is something else on your mind regarding this."

"Sort of. Moony is acting like my conscience in some respects. I thought, if you didn't mind, that I would invite him along for when I dealt with Percy, and maybe Severus."

"I didn't realize you needed two consciences."

Brand gave his father a frustrated look. "He wanted to understand how I felt about killing Moody, why it was being done. I'm not sure if he would ever ask you directly, but he feels safe asking me, and that's fine. I think it would help ease his mind further if he were there. He is happy here, father. He appreciates how you do things, that you actually listen to your people. He doesn't feel like some kind of bizarre decoration, or useless because his sole function is now invalid."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that he's adjusting well." Voldemort sighed slightly, then nodded. "If he wishes to go, he can, but I would prefer he's disguised, as is Severus. You can go as whoever you wish to be." After a pause, in which he looked directly at Brand, he said, "No, I'm not upset. I'm just thinking about how much I've changed since you came to me."

Brand made the logical assumption that this was another of those things he was often blind to. Yes, he knew that his father loved him and cared about his opinions and feelings, but. . . . "I'm not sure I understand. Yes, you've changed, but has it really been all that much? I could see the first time I met your followers that they were proud to be with you, and that hasn't changed."

"Yes, they are, and they were. They respect me, certainly. These days I actually care about something, someone. You are a constant reminder that one can work toward a goal without having to be . . . what I was."

"Okay, but they're still right there. They believe in you."

"Brand, I used to torture them on a regular basis. The slightest mistake, any failure, was an excuse. Is it any wonder that Severus betrayed me? I have to wonder now why more didn't follow in his footsteps. Yes, they've adjusted, and I think they're happier for it."

"At the risk of offending you, father, I told Severus something once. I said we all have to grow up sometime. Maybe once your obsession was dealt with, you could move past it and move on."

Voldemort chuckled. "Perhaps, but that isn't entirely what I mean. They are not my equals, they are my subordinates, certainly as it pertains to power. They had no real way to affect my perception. You, on the other hand, are much more than I am in many ways. You could have gone on as you were and most likely succeeded in killing me. But you didn't. You came to me willingly, asking either for a merciful death, or help, and even then you made it clear you would not simply abase yourself, though you were willing to obey. Do you have any idea of the effect of that?"

"I'm not sure that's a valid comparison, father. Yes, all right. I am stronger if you specify raw power. So what? You have decades of experience and you're brilliant. Even Dumbledore admits to that."

Voldemort shook his head. "I will grant you that there are different kinds of power. The point is, in order to keep you, I had to listen to you. I had to make compromises in how I did things so as not to drive you away. You would not relinquish your beliefs, so I had to adjust my own. And somewhere along the line, I learned what it was to care for someone. When you asked me if I could adopt you, take you as my son, do you know how that felt? How it felt to hear you say that I saved you?"

"You make it sound like I'm your superior, and I just don't agree. I think you've taught me as much as you think I've taught you, and I'm not referring to spells, father."

Voldemort shook his head a second time and smiled. "You took Severus to meet the girl?"

"Yes. He was muttering something about it being the wrong time, though." Brand shrugged. "I expect nothing much will happen until after the raids, at least. I went ahead and placed coercions on her. Basically, she can't speak of the pregnancy, and she won't be able to speak about anything that happens here once she leaves, though she's free to converse with people while she is here."

"Then I expect that's well in hand."

Brand smiled. "Regarding Hermione—Draco is checking to see if she's approached the ministry for employment. Would you object if she found it there, even if she doesn't react well and I have to obliviate her?"

"I assume you would wish that simply based on the past," said Voldemort.

"Of course. I'd like her to be happy, even if she's not with us. If she goes anywhere else, though, I'm not sure what influence we'd have."

"Then I assume you already have a plan for approaching her."

After a nod Brand said, "Yes. Somewhat similar to what I did with Draco and Remus, actually. Coercions to keep her quiet, and the intent to obliviate anything crucial if she should reject the offer entirely."

"And if she says she wants to think it over before coming to a decision?"

Brand furrowed his brow. "Well, it is true that she wouldn't be here where I could keep an eye on her. And I don't want to use something like the Imperius Curse. How common is it for ministry people to interview elsewhere, or invite candidates to their home for a more informal meeting?"

"Not common. However, I suppose it is possible that she could be misled into thinking she was to attend an informal dinner with her potential colleagues after the initial interview."

"Hm. I suppose I could do that. In theory, I guess it would be better to keep the two as separate as possible, even though it can't be entirely. All right. But, do you think it would be wise to bring her here, even if she doesn't realize where here is? Dumbledore obviously knows the location of the estate, after all."

"You could portkey her into the travel room, son. If things went badly, stun her, obliviate the evening, and portkey or floo her back out to a safe location. I do not know, obviously, if she resides with her family still, or if she has found a place of her own."

"Well, if she hasn't found a job yet, I expect she's still at the Grangers. I could watch the place long enough to wait until they all went out, then set up a portkey back to her bedroom or something similar."

Voldemort nodded. "Then I leave it in your hands. Has Severus come up with a suitably nasty note to leave behind at Remus's home?"

"I don't know. I'll ask today, though. I know I would definitely like to see it beforehand. Of course, Severus is so good at being pithy that I expect it will be quite an amusing read."

Voldemort smirked and said, "Yes, indeed. Well, then, I shall summon Lucius and Antonin. Let me know if any questions come up."

"Yes, father." Brand set aside his napkin and rose, circling the table to drop a kiss on his father's head before heading out to find Severus and invite him back up to his suite.

-----

"Here," Severus said, handing over a sheet of parchment before he took a seat.

Brand accepted it with no small measure of curiosity and began to read.

_How utterly delightful. It is always heartening to find indisputable proof that Albus Dumbledore is as  
unscrupulous and coldhearted as people have been wont to accuse me of._

_After all, who might expect that the self-proclaimed leader of the Light would go so far as to not  
only send one of his people out to die as useless, but then decide, when that person actually returned,  
that it was just as well to suggest he appear in werewolf form without benefit of wolfsbane._

_It hardly escapes us that he intended for Lupin to die that night, possibly taking down or infecting  
others of the Order in the process. How very quaint. Are lives so cheap on the side of Light that  
Dumbledore can afford to throw them away? Or was it his intention to gain more werewolf allies at  
their unwitting expense?_

Brand looked up and grimaced. "You've just exposed a major flaw in these plans, Severus. Interrogation of Remus means that we're aware the Order knows what we intended to do as regards the Grangers. We'll have to back off on that, unless we want to appear completely fearless, or stupid."

"That is true. I assume you will be bringing that up with our lord. I admit, it was not until I drafted this out that I made the connection. Most unlike me, I assure you."

Brand grinned for a second, and nodded. "Yeah, well." Then he continued reading.

_We believe we can do far more interesting things with the werewolf. Perhaps we may even keep it  
alive for our entertainment. Despair is such an enthralling reaction, especially if the creature is fed  
on news of the Light's further actions as we discover them. And if we are lucky, it may even attempt  
to kill itself. That would be truly delightful._

_Even so, one has to wonder at the quality of people who would chose to follow a man such as  
Dumbledore. Are all of you completely lacking in intelligence, or willfully blind? Are you all so  
enamored of the man that his words fall like pearls of wisdom from some manner of a god or  
oracle?_

_Spare me such delusions. If that is the true nature of the leader of the Light, we find it unfathomable  
that any are left alive. We have to wonder if muggleborns are merely fodder for the war. Does  
Dumbledore truly believe they are as valuable as purebloods, or simply that his seeming kindness  
will make them that much more willing to throw their lives away in a fruitless effort against our  
forces?_

_Veritaserum is such a thrilling little potion, don't you think? One wonders what would happen if  
Dumbledore were forced to speak the truth. And on that note, we have other matters to attend to._

Brand smiled softly. "I think father will be amused by this. And I don't think he will care much if we have to toss the Granger plan. I actually think it works out better this way, though I expect that they'll continue to keep watch on them for a while."

He lowered the parchment and looked at Severus. "It will mean I'll have to be very careful about getting her here, though." He explained his conversation with his father briefly on her.

"I had talked to Lupin about what you said. I believe I can understand your hesitation on the matter of the younger Mr Weasley now."

Brand smiled, pleased that Severus had done so without further prompting. He would like to see the two of them along, at the very least. It really had not been Moony's fault regarding the Shrieking Shack incident and it was time that Severus let that go. If Severus could let go his former feelings about Harry Potter, surely he could set aside the past when it came to Remus, even though Remus had not been forward about reining in his friends' activities.

Still, he was not going to press the issue, much as he might like to. Severus could be very prickly at times. Even so, it did appear that he was making progress on that score, having accepted that Remus was with them to stay, and even working with him on the matter of the fake capture. While that might indicate that he was unwilling to protest because it was his lord's will, or even Brand's, it looked more as though he had had a slight change of heart.

"Father has decided that Percy isn't to be killed, by the way. Dolohov will be moved to the Moody team and I will be the one leading against Weasley. I intend to ask Remus to come with me, disguised. Would you also like to come?"

"I would be interested, yes. Since Lupin's home will be the staging point, it should be a simple enough matter. Once we've taken care of any last minute details, both teams could head out."

"Exactly." Brand paused and looked around. "Excuse me for a moment, would you?" Without waiting for a response he rose, then crossed to the bedroom door and opened it, looking inside. Draco was still sleeping.

With a slight smirk on his face, Brand caused the covers to be whipped off the bed, then a jet of ice cold water to hit his mate. The yelling began almost immediately and was silenced with a quick spell. Once Draco was staring at him crossly Brand said, "If you would be so kind as to get up? I thought you might wish to join Severus and me out here."

Draco glanced at the clock, then paled and nodded, so Brand removed the silencing spell. Flashing his mate a grin, he backed up and closed the door, then returned to his seat.

"Wear him out, did you?"

Brand glared. "Don't think I won't hex you. I almost hit father with one earlier."

Severus snickered quietly. "As you say."

Draco came out a few minutes later and sat down next to Brand, a slight scowl on his face. "Was that really necessary?"

"I suppose I could have been kinder, but that wouldn't have been as much fun," Brand retorted with a grin. "Now that you're awake, though, I should fill you in on a few things." Then he paused, and snapped his fingers. A second later he said, "Maer, would you please find Remus and ask him to come here?"

Another several minutes passed before Remus was sitting with them, at which point Brand briefly explained his conversation with his father again. "When do you expect to hear back from the ministry, Draco?"

"I would hope today, but possibly tomorrow."

"Moony, you were planning on moping around Tonks on the sixth?" After seeing him nod Brand said, "You'll send out an invitation to the twins that same day? All right. Obviously, I need to speak with father again and show him this note, but I think for the moment we can assume that the attack on the Grangers is off. I imagine that after they read this someone will make the assumption that we may have seen Moony leaving the estate and decided to investigate. However, Severus? I want you to have an emergency portkey on you at all times. If there's even the least bit of suspicion about you, I want you out of there if you can't deflect it. Your life is more important than having a spy in the school."

"As you wish."

"Then, about Hermione. If I can get her here, I'd want some of you present. While she might be understandably cautious about identities, she can perform the usual tests to verify who you are. I think it might be more powerful if she could witness you retrieving memories for her to view. I can also use my patronus as I did with you, Moony, since she won't be able to verify me as anyone other than Brand Riddle."

"I suppose we won't know when until we know about an interview," remarked Remus.

Brand couldn't help but notice that Moony's gaze would occasionally drift over toward Severus, and wondered why. "Well, I need to see if father is available so I can apprise him of things. I would like for you all to consider ways in which we can make the Order look bad. Severus, is Joshua still faring all right?"

"Yes."

"Has he given any indication if he would prefer to remain here, or if he would prefer to be placed with a family?"

"Not as yet, but I will approach him to see if he's even considered that."

"All right. Oh, do you think there would be any value in Moony leaving behind a personal journal? Something that expressed your own feelings on what Albus suggested. It might be considered a trick by them, or maybe not."

"Well, I do actually keep one. Things like that are already in it, actually. I guess I don't care if it's found. They're going to consider me as good as dead anyway, so I suppose it doesn't matter if they find out a lot of things about me. They might assume that I was forced to speak of it, or something like it, and it was left out in the open with the note to drive home the point."

"Okay. I'm going to check with father, then. I'll see you all later. Dinner, if you feel like it, in here. If not, whenever." Brand gave everyone a nod and left. Some minutes later he slipped into his father's study, unobtrusively seating himself so as not to interrupt the conversation occurring between Voldemort and his two followers.

A short time later Voldemort dismissed them, then looked at his son questioningly.

Brand rose and switched seats, handing over the note, and said, "I think you'll reach the same conclusions I did."

Once Voldemort had finished scanning the page he said, "Yes, I agree. We'll have to call off the attack on the Grangers. It wasn't that important to begin with, and it has served its purpose already insofar as Remus is concerned."

"I've already asked Severus, Draco, and Remus to start thinking of how to embarrass the Order again. I had considered the idea of impersonating Order members to cause a little havoc, but that would only work once, perhaps twice, and I'm not so sure I want to embarrass anyone specifically aside from Dumbledore. It's his downfall I care about. If they happen to come to see him for what he is, that's a plus, and we might gain new people in consequence."

"Mm. If you target them specifically they may simply become more angry, and more inclined to disbelieve anything we might try to say."

"I don't suppose there's been any progress on a potential new home?" It wasn't as thought he had bothered to go looking, checking out maps of the world.

"Some," Voldemort said. "There are a few places under consideration, though some of them would represent a marked change in climate. Your Miss Granger might be of some use there if she can be persuaded. Though, it has occurred to me that she may not wish to leave this country. Her parents would not be welcome."

"Well, father, what happens when a wizarding couple produces a squib? Do they deserve the right to grow up among us, or should they be shipped off to a different community? Should they be allowed to stay, but sterilized? I would hate to think they would remain, but forced into being mere servants. It isn't as though it would be their fault, after all."

"Honestly? Shipped back. Your concern is valid enough, Brand. As it's been said, you can't legislate morality, though people certainly try. They would deserve a normal life, which they would not get in an entirely wizarding community. Of course, they would also likely be as devastated as any muggles if their child disappeared one day. But if we plan to take those. . . ."

"I understand. I'm not sure there's any right answer. I guess the best we can do is try and stay on the line, somewhere in a grey area."

Voldemort nodded. "I will rewrite this note in my own handwriting and give that to Severus. It may as well be seen as coming from me directly. If they think I am so bold as to personally have gone after the man, all to the better."


	16. Visitations

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 16: Visitations —**

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Brand was in the process of dishing carrots onto his plate when a thought struck him hard. He sat up straight and shot Severus an intense look, hand hovering mid-air.

"Yes?"

"Your mind is protected," Brand said.

Severus was kind enough not to roll his eyes, and instead waited.

"I was just thinking—remember when I said I wanted to blow up a certain place, but discarded the idea?"

Severus began to look very curious, and Draco and Remus looked a bit startled.

"All right. So suppose we did anyway. Especially if they had already become suspicious of you and you had to flee. Either way, it isn't as though you could reveal anything, Severus. I still can't help but think it would be not only amusing, but serve as a warning."

"I can see that, but if no one in the Order is able to confess to such a crime, they might begin to believe that Potter isn't really dead."

Brand frowned and tipped the carrots onto his plate, then replaced the spoon. "Then only if you have to flee. You can always be adequately disguised off the estate if it comes to that. I know that while others can gather your supplies, you prefer to go yourself at times."

"I assume," Remus broke in, "that you would shoot for a time when it was actually empty."

"Of course. Absolutely no loss of life. Just a rather explosive statement. Sirius never liked the place anyway. I'm sure if he were to be watching, he'd laugh at my audacity."

Remus grinned slightly. "He might at that."

"I could wish I understood what you three are discussing, but I get the feeling it has to with the Order headquarters," said Draco in a faintly annoyed tone.

"Well, anything is possible, Draco," Brand said vaguely. "I confess, I was actually thinking of the eighth, since we aren't going after the Grangers, but you're right, Severus. How often is anyone actually even there?"

"Generally just meetings, Brand. No one has even bothered to fix things up. Not aside from vanishing dust occasionally."

"You have already mentioned the possibility of losing me as a spy to our lord?" asked Severus.

"Yes, after I showed him the note. We talked for quite a while. I don't think he'd object at all. We could even go so far as to plant a body to suggest that Severus died as a result. It isn't as though you could be located. Of course, we'd have to do some fiddling either way in order for you to have access to your funds and whatnot. I can't imagine you'd be too upset over losing your manor. . . ?"

Severus shook his head.

"Well, technically you could be become another person, but that shouldn't matter after a bit. It isn't as though British forces could invade later on."

"Our lord is looking into a place to move to?" Draco asked.

"Yes. Nothing definite yet. For all I know he's considering purchasing a nice island somewhere, then booting out all the muggles and setting up protections." Brand shrugged lightly. "If father hasn't already, he said he'd get back to you, Severus, with a new copy of that note in time for the raids."

"Understood."

"Speaking of a new home. . . . You didn't hear anything from the ministry today, Draco?"

"No."

"Then we might wish to consider a little visit. And at the same time, I could check in with Pansy to see how her research is going. She's been there for a while now. No one will find it strange for you to be visiting an old friend."

"As yourself?"

Brand considered. "Now that you mention it, I'm not sure. The only change I made when Moony and I went to see the twins was to my eyes. Yes, okay, I'll wear a different face, just in case. She doesn't have to say anything out loud about the research. I can just ghost for it."

-----

Brand and Draco strolled into the ministry casually and submitted to the usual security measures, though Brand had produced a different wand. He didn't want anyone to make the connection to his original, so he had left that behind and used his backup. Once security had vetted them they boarded the lift and made their way to where Pansy worked, drifting over to her desk.

"Hello, Pansy. I thought I'd drop by to see how much fun you were having," Draco drawled as Brand signaled her.

She gave them a polite smile and nodded, then pushed the stack of paperwork to one side and launched into a meaningless conversation with moderate enthusiasm. Brand took the opportunity to ghost through her mind, latching onto the bits of information she had been compiling and mentally organizing into research topics. Several minutes later he inserted himself into the conversation.

"It's been fascinating to hear what you've been up to, my dear. You should consider coming to visit soon. We'd love to have you. But for now we have a few other people we should be seeing while we're here."

"Of course. I would be delighted. Perhaps dinner?"

Brand nodded and smiled. "An excellent idea, my dear. We shall see you later, then, this evening." After he and Draco gave a parting inclination of the head they drifted off again, this time to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on the fourth floor. They searched out Malacai Bentley, Draco's contact.

"I was disappointed to not have mail from you yet," Draco said in a low voice. "You have heard from the girl?"

"Yes, this morning," Bentley replied in an equally low voice. "I have arranged to be the one to do the interview."

Brand arched a brow, then aimed a smile at the man. "Is that so? You know, you really should stop by for dinner. We're having a number of friends over for the evening. Perhaps we could discuss things in more detail then?"

"As you wish," Bentley said agreeably.

Brand considered stopping in to see the minister, but discarded the idea. It wasn't really that safe to do so, not with Draco along, and not as an unknown face. He nodded a good-bye to Bentley and returned to the estate with his mate, ending up in his suite.

"Pansy has amassed quite a bit of statistical information so far. Hopefully we can get a team of people working on the question of squibs. If there's a way we can prevent it from happening in the first place, one of my primary concerns about our own country would be nullified."

"What, sending away the squib children of our own people?"

"Of course. It's bad enough I advocated the kidnapping of magical children from muggle families, but if we had to separate our own people from their children? They couldn't stay, Draco. They'd very likely end up as outcasts. I think it would take quite a while of harmonious. . . . Well, a long time before people were confident enough to welcome in non-magical folk without rancor."

Later that evening Pansy imparted a great deal of knowledge in the form of stacks of parchment she had copied from the ministry files. Brand set them aside in order to look at later, then turned his attention to Bentley.

"So, she did exactly as expected. Have you already set up an interview date?"

"No, my lord. After having received Malfoy's letter I thought it would be wiser to discuss that with you."

"It will have to be after the eighth. Consider the fourteenth, then. Whatever you can agree on, let me know. You will _not_ be the one conducting the interview. I will, as you, so you're going to need to provide me with the appropriate materials. I'm also going to need a complete list of who her coworkers would be should she be hired."

"Yes, my lord. I will have those for you immediately, and let you know the moment a date and time is decided upon."

"Splendid. Your promptness will be appreciated, Bentley. You may go whenever you're ready. I'm sure your wife and children are waiting for you, and I wouldn't wish to detain you any longer than necessary."

Bentley smiled and inclined his head, then left. Brand took a brief moment to shoot compressed versions of the conversations to his father, then headed off to lure Draco into the sunken tub in his suite.

-----

Severus and Remus headed out fairly early, intent on destroying Remus's home by themselves. Brand tagged along long enough to assure that there weren't any surprises placed by Dumbledore, then returned to the estate. They came back several hours later with satisfied expressions.

Brand thought it was slightly odd that Remus felt that way, but then, perhaps he had never been happy. Living in the muggle world, outcast from the wizarding community on so many occasions, must be quite difficult and wearing. Now that he had a home where he could be comfortable. . . .

And—Brand watched them interact for a moment—it seemed that maybe he wasn't so crazy after all. First Remus being concerned about Severus's welfare, and then Severus willingly going to Remus for information? What was next—a bonding announcement? Of course, Severus had admitted that he didn't have much experience himself. Was he even aware of what was developing? Did Severus even think about other people that way in relation to himself—without prodding?

Remus took off again, this time with a calculated expression of sorrow and indecision. Brand grinned as Severus watched him leave with a blank look on his face, then turned to face him.

"I'll assume everything is set for this evening, then. Have fun?" Brand asked.

"There is something to be said for destruction simply for the sake of it. I imagined a number of my more troublesome students while I worked. I found it immensely satisfying."

Brand smirked and nodded. "I'm glad to hear that. Nothing like a little mayhem to get the blood going." He paused a moment to pull up his map and shove it off to one side. He wasn't sure if the alarm he had placed would function if the map was dormant. "Then I expect you'll have a bit more fun this evening when we get messy at Percy's home."

"One can always hope."

"It'll be nice to have the two of you there to make sure I don't have to deal with any incidentals while working on Percy," he said casually.

"I am quite certain that Remus and I can find ways to amuse ourselves."

Brand smiled innocently. It was rather interesting that Severus had used Moony's given name.

-----

When Remus did return some time later he showed up at Brand's suite with a smug look on his face.

"Dare I hope you had luck today?"

Remus grinned and nodded. "If you thought I was good at the shop. . . . She seemed very concerned, and curious. I just need to send out an invitation to the twins before we leave tonight and that plan should be all set."

"Then I guess time will tell as to how our targets react. No sense worrying over it at this point," Brand said, then, "Have you given any thought as to what kind of role you'd like here? I'm not saying you have to do anything, Moony. But you might get bored."

Remus shrugged lightly and raised his brows. "I could teach. I rather enjoyed it, actually, that one year."

"Formal, or before that?"

"Don't many families home-school their children before Hogwarts?" Remus countered.

"Sure, but some send them to muggle schools. It seems to me that if we have this chance to completely renovate the education system, we might as well start early, not that I'm saying people would be compelled to place their younger offspring in the hands of others. However, I expect we'll be building for a long time, so it might be wise to have people set up to handle the early stages and common skills or information. Once they got into the normal level of schooling, such as Hogwarts, they could begin to divert a lot more. I think it's silly that people with special abilities aren't marked and given additional lessons. Sure, it's nice that everyone gets a grounding in some things, like potions, but for those hopeless at it, or really hate it, is it the right thing to do to force them into five years of classes?"

"I suppose so. Divination is another one. It's all very well to take those lessons, but if you have no talent, you end up looking a bit foolish come exam time as far as practicals go."

Brand nodded. "All of that was a waste of my time. I should have just dropped the class. But if someone is exceptionally good at healing spells, or dark arts, or dueling, they may as well be trained to make the most of those. Again, I'm not saying they'd be forced. I think the option should be available. I'm also not saying that children should be allowed to not be grounded in certain things just because they don't care for it."

"At any rate, teaching is one option."

"Has Severus said anything about Joshua? I keep meaning to ask."

"The boy seems fairly content as he is. He hasn't expressed any interest in being shipped off to a suitable family. It's possible that he's developed a fondness for Severus specifically, which might explain his vagueness."

"Well, father did say it would be fine either way. He can stay on the estate."

"He may not have said anything because he might be afraid of rejection."

"Do you think I should talk to him personally?" Brand asked. "I've been worried that my little display that night might have put him off me completely."

"I don't think it would hurt. He's been here long enough from what I understand to have seen you around or overheard a bit about you. I know you can be quite gentle, and you can empathize with some of his treatment."

"I'll make a mental note to track him down, then. Perhaps tomorrow."

"Well, we have a few hours yet," Remus said. "I'm going to go write that letter, then see what trouble I can get into."

-----

They arrived at Remus's home at eight that evening and promptly proceeded to trash the entryway with a few well-placed spells. The letter and journal were left out in the open in the sitting room, near a chair which, to all accounts, looked as though it had been used to restrain someone.

Brand had still not heard a peep from his map, and had checked it several times to be sure that Tonks had not somehow slipped into the school without his knowledge. Seeing no reason to delay further, he directed Lucius's team to head out to deal with Moody, then set about disguising Severus and Remus before changing his own appearance to something suitably nondescript.

On arriving at Percy's flat Brand cast a one-way revealing spell on the door to see if anyone was lurking, then quietly sprang the lock so the three of them could slip in. Once the door was secured again they each checked out a room leading off the hallway, using hand signals to communicate. Severus made a very rude gesture just as Brand heard voices floating into the corridor.

"Yes, I realize that, Penny, but do you have any idea how important it is to know that someone is keeping an eye on them to assure quality control?"

"Percy, really. Do you honestly think that self-stirrers are going to go out of control and poke someone's eye out?"

Brand rolled his eyes and silently slapped his forehead. A look at Remus revealed that the man was laughing soundlessly. Brand sighed quietly and crept closer to Severus.

"Look, I'm going to refresh our drinks," she continued. "I'll be right back."

After some rustling noises she stepped out into the hallway, blinked, then immediately screamed. Brand stunned her a second later and watched as she fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Percy appeared as if by magic and exclaimed in distress, then noticed who was standing there.

"And just what are you people doing in my home?" he demanded. "And Penny!"

Brand arched a brow and replied, "You mean this isn't the new location for wayward wizarding boys home? How unfortunate." Then he raised his wand a second time and let loose with a stunner. Percy dropped like a stone.

"You would think he would have had the sense to flee, my lord, not ask stupid questions," commented Severus.

"Yes, well." Brand absently cleaned up the mess from the spilled drinks and nodded at Penelope. "Unfortunate she's here, but that's one less person to worry about dropping by. She can even go sound the alarm after we're done and I allow her to wake up." He cast a second spell on her to put her in stasis, then levitated Percy back into the room he had emerged from.

"One of you take position there to keep an eye on her and the front door."

"I'll do it," Remus said.

"I'll see to being creative, then," said Severus, "and see about planting those documents, my lord."

"Fine. Now. . . ." Brand planted Percy in a chair and bound him in place so he wouldn't inconveniently flop over, then pulled up a second chair so he could sit down. He placed Percy in stasis as well and settled back into a comfortable position. And, though he kept his wand handy, it wasn't something he actually used during his trip into Percy's mind. He had every confidence that Severus and Remus could handle anything unexpected that might come up.

Unfortunately, the average human mind wasn't like a filing cabinet. Brand could not simply open up the drawers he needed for a specific subject, or even a specific year, and destroy them. He couldn't even have Percy assist him; in stasis, his mind was inactive but for basic functions. It was a painstaking, tedious, and tiring process to sift through memory after memory looking for those with any relevance. He was not looking forward to having to do this a second time with his not-wife.

Each time he encountered something that had occurred within the last three years, or had anything to do with Percy's own opinion on Harry Potter, Brand destroyed it. He could remember pictures he had seen during his muggle schooling and likened it to zapping memory cells. Since he was well aware that humanity used very little of that available in the brain, he held no particular concern that he was doing overall damage.

After a while it became akin to a game of search and destroy, like wandering around a vast, honeycombed expanse with a laser pistol from some film and shooting the bad guys with perfect aim and unlimited ammunition. He idly wondered if the Order, and the Weasley family, would believe it was simply an attempt to completely wipe Percy's mind that had gone wrong, or calculated. Perhaps Severus would be able to report back on that.

Just for effect he also randomly destroyed a few memories that weren't on the agenda, but nothing important for Percy in terms of functioning normally. When he did finally pull his awareness back into the real world it was very late. Though, considering the sun was starting to creep over the windowsill, maybe that was very early.

Remus was snoozing on the couch and Severus standing at attention in the doorway. Brand stretched, almost groaning at the feeling of tendons popping and catching Severus's attention in the process, then stood up and paced in a circle for a minute to exercise his stiff limbs.

"My lord, it is done?" Severus asked quietly.

Brand nodded. "I assume everything has been quiet," he said, then yawned hugely and wobbled.

Severus frowned. "I suggest you take care of the final details, my lord. You do not look to be in good shape."

Brand waved his hand around negligently and blinked slowly. "Yes. Go ahead and wake Remus. As soon as we're ready to leave I'll take them out of stasis. I see no point in unbinding him as the Clearwater girl can help her darling stuffed shirt on her own. We'll apparate directly."

Severus nodded and went to shake Remus awake. Gently, Brand noticed. His secretive smile turned into another expansive yawn, however, and he hastily covered his mouth. Once Remus was up and ready Brand stunned Percy a second time and brought him out of stasis, then did the same for Penelope. Seconds later they were in the travel room of the estate.


	17. What?

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 17: What!? —**

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_:Father?:_

_:Son. You have returned finally?:_

_:Yes. I'm going to send Sev—:_

_:Brand?:_ Voldemort didn't feeling like waiting for an answer to that. After a quick glimpse into his son's mind he made for the travel room, sweeping in to stop dead at the sight of Brand passed out on the floor, Remus crouched down next to him. "What happened?" he demanded.

Severus answered, "My lord, he did not look well when he was finished with Weasley's mind, but seemed to think it was nothing to be concerned about. Once we returned here his eyes went a little unfocused—I assumed he was checking to see if you were awake—then thrust out an arm as though dizzy. A moment later he collapsed."

Voldemort frowned, his eyes narrowing sharply, then sighed. "Fine. Remus, take him back to his suite. I will come to check on him shortly. Severus, you come with me." He turned and swept back out, knowing that Lupin would take very good care of Brand, and headed off to his study. Once he was seated, and had waved Severus into a chair, he said, "Report."

Severus gave him a summary of the evening's events using his usual clear and concise wording, finishing up with, "And, while he was obviously tired, I allow that I did not expect him to pass out."

"It is, perhaps, just as well the attack on the Granger family is off. All right. Be prepared for a meeting later today, though depending on how bad Brand is, I may postpone it."

"Yes, my lord."

"You may go," he said as he rose, fully intent on checking up on his son, and stalked off without waiting for a further response. He reached the third floor within minutes and barged into Brand's suite without bothering to knock, then into the bedroom. He found his son tucked under the covers and Draco and Remus hovering nearby.

Draco looked up at his entrance and said, "My lord. He seems to be all right, just drained and exhausted. I'm not skilled enough at medimagic to be able to tell for sure."

Had it been any other time he might have been amused at the sight of a sleep-rumpled Draco. As it was, he barely gave it a second thought. He moved toward the bed and sat at Brand's side, then reached out and placed the fingertips of one hand on his son's forehead, his thumb and pinky touching the temples, and closed his eyes.

_Brand gave him a curious look. "Father?" he asked, then looked around with a puzzled expression.  
"Uh, where are we?"_

_"In your mind, son. You collapsed."_

_"Did you have to make it so dreary?" Brand complained._

_Voldemort snorted. "Forgive me for not giving a damn about the decor this time. You scared me."_

_"I'm sorry, father. I was about to send Severus to you and then go seek my bed. Where am I right  
now?"_

_"Exactly there. Draco and Remus are also present. Severus has already given me his report. No," he  
said, seeing the look on Brand's face, "there is no need for your own report just yet. I simply want to  
make sure that you are all right. Obviously your mission was a little more exacting than you  
expected. I have no idea when you'll actually wake up, but someone will be with you constantly. If it  
takes too long, I'll have Severus come look. However, from your perspective, do you feel well?"_

_"Yeah. I mean, I got really dizzy. Everything sort of went into reverse image and I lost my balance.  
That's the last thing I remember. I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I feel fine, though. Here, at  
least. I can't say much for my body."_

_Voldemort thought Brand seemed a bit confused, but kept his expression clear. "Then you shall rest.  
Once you are yourself again, I will call for a meeting so we can all discuss the results of your  
missions. Granted, even if you were in bed you could listen in, but I would prefer you to be there  
physically so I would not have to relay your thoughts on matters."_

_"Honestly, father. You make it sound like I'm an invalid."_

_Voldemort smiled slightly and said, "The possibility could occur, son. I'm sure you'll be fine after a  
decent amount of sleep, but you'll simply have to accept that I worry about you."_

_Brand flashed a smile at him and scratched his head._

_"I'm going to release this state now. As I said, someone will be with you constantly and I'll send in  
Severus if necessary. We'll talk again later, though if you don't wake up in a reasonable amount of  
time, I will return this same way."_

_"All right, father."_

Voldemort opened his eyes and pulled back his hand. "One of you will stay with him at all times and keep me updated. I do not expect any real problems, but I want to be alert to any potential issues. If necessary I will go back in and talk with him again."

"Yes, my lord."

"Yes, sir," said Remus.

Voldemort nodded and rose, then swept out.

-----

Brand did not actually wake until the next morning, and remembered very little of his father's visit. He snuggled back into the embrace of the one holding him, presumably Draco, and yawned. The arms around him tightened immediately.

"Back with us, huh?"

"Mm. And hungry."

"Then I'll go ask Maer to fetch us some breakfast," Draco replied, giving him another squeeze, then releasing him to get up. "The question becomes, do you want to bathe first, or would you prefer breakfast in bed?"

Brand wrinkled his nose. "I'll get up, thanks."

"Then I'll be right back." Draco left and was back before Brand had even managed to stand up. "Right. I told him a half hour, so you have plenty of time to take a bath with me, don't you."

Brand squinted up at him and said, "If you say so. I won't break, you know." Nevertheless, he allowed Draco to give him a hand up and lead him off into the bathroom where he was directed to strip while Draco filled the tub. Brand did so with only minor grumbling, for in truth he felt slightly shaky.

After being manhandled into the sitting room a bit later and into a seat, he was finally allowed to assuage his gnawing hunger pangs. As Draco sat down himself he said, "I already told Maer to inform our lord that you were awake."

Brand paused to groan softly. "He'll come charging in any minute now, you just wait."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Give me more credit than that, will you? I specified that you would contact him yourself after you'd eaten. In any case, today is the day we don't go after the Grangers, just in case your mind is muddled enough to not be aware what day this is."

"All right. Then what's happened?" he asked before taking another mouthful.

Draco snorted—he was being rather tetchy in Brand's opinion—and said, "No. It can bloody well wait until after you're done. There is no way in hell I'm going to usurp our lord's prerogative."

"And I thought I wasn't a morning person," Brand muttered, then pointedly ignored the affronted look shot at him. A short time later he sat back and sighed with pleasure.

_:Father?:_

_:Don't go anywhere.:_

_:Huh?:_

Brand got no response and rightfully assumed his father was even then headed to his suite. Several minutes later the door opened and Voldemort stepped through with Severus right behind him.

"Good morning, my lord, Severus," said Draco.

"You could knock, you know," Brand complained.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Either Draco is in a bad mood, or you aren't feeling all that well."

Brand detected a faint, muffled snort coming from behind Voldemort, where Severus was standing. "I feel fine! Well, now that I've eaten. I was starving, after all." After a slight pause he said, "Good morning, father, Severus." Then he sent, _:Or did you neglect to knock because you were hoping to see something naughty?:_

Voldemort coughed, then said, "Severus, if you would please. . . ?"

"Yes, my lord," came the prompt reply, and Severus stepped over to him, wand out. "Just a few scans, Lord Brand."

Brand suffered through it patiently for several minutes, finally erupting to say, "If you aren't done soon I'm going to hex someone."

Severus arched a brow and kept right on working, eventually tucking his wand away and turning back to Voldemort. "He is fine, my lord."

Voldemort placed a hand on his hip and nodded. "Is that so," he drawled. "And are we feeling irascible for a reason, son?"

"I'm just tired."

"Then I expect after you've rested for the remainder of the morning that you'll be fine for lunch and a meeting afterward." When Brand frowned he said, "I didn't say sleep. I said rest. Unless you are not feeling up to it for some reason, you and Draco will have lunch in the meeting room with me, Severus, Remus, Lucius, and Antonin."

"All right, father."

-----

"So, now that we're all set, let us begin. Lucius?"

Lucius said, "Yes, my lord," then turned to face Brand. "The rabid dog has been eliminated. Antonin took great delight in following your specific orders, my lord, once we were in a position to subdue him. Draco and I impersonated a couple of hapless passersby using polyjuice, then staged a fight with Antonin outside Moody's home. Naturally, he charged out to assist, at which point we each cast our assigned spells. Antonin stole his eye, Draco his leg, and I stunned him during the confusion."

Lucius paused to have a sip of water, then continued. "When he came to he found himself strapped down for interrogation. After we mocked him for letting himself be captured, he was questioned with veritaserum, then killed and the body disposed of."

"And did anything fascinating come out of it?" Brand asked.

"Mainly that Moody was aware of Albus's plans as regards Lupin, and agreed with him. He intended to kill Lupin if he had showed up, even if he had taken wolfsbane. The whole of it is already written up for your perusal, my lord."

"Then I'm even more glad he was targeted. He's as bad as Dumbledore, though he obviously doesn't trouble himself to hand off the dirty work."

"Severus?" Voldemort prompted.

"My lords," he began. "Dumbledore is not yet aware of Moody's death, though he was puzzled when Moody did not appear at the meeting last evening. The two main topics of discussion were Percy Weasley and Remus. Percy is currently at St Mungo's, though I have no doubt they will be unable to reverse anything of what you did to him, Lord Brand. Speculation arose as to the intended fate of that young man. They are, as yet, uncertain whether or not his partial memory loss was to cover up his activities, or for another reason. The documents left behind definitely cast doubt on his loyalties coupled with that."

"His family?" asked Brand.

"They are beside themselves, my lord. On the one hand they are frightened that one of their own was attacked. However, Arthur was quick enough to realize the benefits to what happened to his son, as you had hoped. Molly is hysterical, but I believe that comes as no surprise given her reputation. As for his siblings, I cannot say. None of them were present."

"If Arthur could see it, then others may as well," Brand said with satisfaction. "We may yet poach more people. And Remus?"

"Oddly enough, the only report on Remus was of his disappearance, my lords. Nothing was said of the journal or the letter left behind."

"I wonder if that means Tonks neglected to inform Dumbledore of those, or if she did it privately," Brand mused.

"Given the condition we left the house in, Dumbledore believes Remus to be dead or captured. Though, I could be wrong when I say I believe he was a tad chagrined at the prospect of capture, my lords."

Brand shrugged. "That's his problem. If he is worried that we captured Remus, and might conceivably spring him on them at any full moon, so be it. And he no longer has his executioner."

"That is enough for the present time, gentlemen. I already have your written reports," Voldemort said. "Brand, we will go to my study." Then he rose and swept out.

Brand gave everyone a nod then followed. The first thing out of his father's mouth once he had sat down was, "You feel well?"

Deciding that he really ought to be grateful for such concern, Brand smiled fondly and said, "Yes, father. And I won't do anything strenuous today, all right?"

Voldemort eyed him carefully, then nodded and pushed a folder across his desk. "These are the reports I mentioned. You can take them back to your rooms if you wish."

"Thanks. I think I will, just so you know that Draco can keep an eye on me. Or Remus." Brand smirked slightly and arched a brow.

"Aside from that, the only thing I wanted to discuss were your poaching plans. If Tonks did not in fact show Dumbledore the letter and journal, then it might be safe to assume she is having serious doubts about the man."

"Well, true, but it could also have helped if the twins actually were there with her like they should have been. Either way, if she hasn't handed those over, I'd agree. For someone who viewed Dumbledore as something akin to a saint, they would have been shared almost as quickly as they were found."

"Then should I assume you are considering the idea of dropping in on the twins again?"

Brand nodded. "It did cross my mind, yes. Obviously, Severus came back from the last meeting, so Dumbledore probably isn't on to him."

"Perhaps. It could be that he is suspicious and wishes to give more time to his speculation before acting."

Brand frowned. "I don't suppose you happen to have a spell laying around in those ancient texts of yours that would help? I mean, if Severus is under suspicion, he could be hit with a stunner, or some other method could be used, that would render him unconscious before he ever had a chance to use his emergency portkey."

"A spell? To do what, exactly?"

"Yank him back here. Take the Dark Mark, for example. While it's a single spell which places one, each one of them is unique because of who bears it. How else could you summon just a single person, or everyone, or only some? People who aren't being summoned don't feel anything, father. So is it possible to modify them? Warn you or me if something happens to one of our people, such as Severus, then allow us to forcibly pull them back to here? Or a portkey that is triggered not by a word or touching it, but by not touching it?"

Voldemort furrowed his brow. "Like a grenade?"

Brand shrugged. "I just hate the idea of him getting taken out with the equivalent of a sucker punch. We would have no idea he was in danger, and might not be able to get him back. I realize that apparation wouldn't work, especially if he were in a warded location, but it is possible for a portkey, and it might be possible to figure out a way to link one to his Dark Mark if that could be made aware of certain things. . . . Maybe I'm being overly concerned or suspicious, but I can't help but think about it."

"I shall consider the idea, son. Carefully, and with due thought. Now I suggest you head back to your suite so you can read those."

-----

Oddly, Draco wasn't present when Brand arrived, though Remus was. He flopped onto the couch and set the folder to one side and smiled at his godfather. "Are you going to coddle me, too?"

"Maybe not kryptonite," Remus replied, "but close enough."

Brand laughed and shook his head. "I hope that means no."

"I'm going to assume you're enough of an adult to know your limitations, Brand. Given that there's no need to out-stubborn anyone at the moment, I think you're mature enough to give in gracefully if the situation requires it. Therefore, I shall assume you're all right until you say otherwise."

Brand clapped a hand to his chest and said, "Ouch. Yes, mother. I promise to speak up if I start feeling unwell."

"See?"

"I hope you aren't feeling too badly about the Moody thing."

Remus shook his head. "I'd already resigned myself to certain things. Moody was simply confirmation. Finding out that he was Albus's McNair, though. . . ."

Brand tilted his head at the folder. "Are you already aware of what's in here?"

"Yes. The new information today was Severus's report. Your father badly wanted to know how the missions went, so when you didn't wake up yesterday he went ahead with a meeting to hear us out."

"Am I going to fall asleep reading through it?"

Remus grinned. "Probably not, though I wouldn't say there's anything earth shattering. If Albus has some sort of a master plan, Moody didn't know about it. There wasn't much of anything that Severus couldn't have told us, which I find odd. While I didn't expect to be told much, the fact that neither of them do either says that Albus is either very tightlipped, or clueless and trading on his reputation."

"Well, I'll read it over in a bit, then. Though. . . ." Brand paused and gave Remus a speculative look. "If Tonks didn't actually report the whole story about you, I wonder what will happen at the Granger home this evening. Sort of makes me want to go hide behind a convenient bush or something just to see what they do."

"I wouldn't recommend it. You know as well as I do that they'll be prepared. It shouldn't matter that Severus didn't tell Albus anything. He may assume Severus wasn't summoned or that the information was a red herring to begin with, especially since I went missing and I was the person to originally bring it back."

"Yes, it could have been a test. We spotted you lurking and allowed false information to drop, then confirmed it to Severus, who naturally was none the wiser. Then we presumably captured you, interrogated you, and so on, and didn't go through with it because we had never planned to in the first place. Of course, that might lead Dumbledore to believe that the information Severus brings back should be taken with a grain of salt. Or, what was said earlier—we saw you leaving too late and captured you to find out what you heard, and realizing that you knew our plans and had passed them on, decided to axe them."

"Well, Severus does have that portkey."

Brand made a face. "I brought that up with father, actually. I may be concerned over nothing, but if Dumbledore were to be really suspicious, he might stun first and ask questions later. Severus might not have the chance to use his portkey." He almost smiled at the expression that flitted across Remus's face. "I made a few suggestions concerning the Dark Mark and such."

"You're really amazing in some respects, Brand," Remus remarked. "You hated the man with a passion when you were, er, younger, but now?"

Brand shrugged and said, "Yes, but I had a chance to start over, start fresh. That meant everyone, Moony. He really is a decent person, and frankly, he took the news extremely well when I told him who I used to be. How could I not appreciate that?" Then he paused and let a deliberately sly smile light his face. "He's also a very good kisser, but don't you dare tell him I told you that."

"What!?"


	18. Just Dinner

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 18: Just Dinner —**

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"You heard me," Brand said casually, inspecting his fingernails for show.

"Do I . . . even want to know?"

"Hmm?" Brand looked up and smiled faintly. "You know, I really should go talk to Joshua. Though, I think father would get upset if he found out I'd left my rooms today."

Remus eyed him carefully, then snorted. "Don't change the subject."

"Why don't you just ask what it is you want to know, Moony."

"This happened before Draco?" Remus asked.

"Of course, what do you take me for?" Brand plastered an injured expression on his face and looked at Remus mournfully. "My goodness, I knew you were concerned about me, but not that concerned." He paused and added, "Or, is your interest in someone else?"

Remus cleared his throat and looked at him sternly. "Don't be foolish. Of course I'm going to be curious when you say things like that out of left field."

"I see." Brand nodded and pursed his lips. "Well, nothing to worry about. It was ages ago."

"Mmmhmm. Why did you kiss?"

Brand gave Remus a wide-eyed look and said, "Why? I was trying to convince him to defect back to us and used homosexuality as an example of the freedoms we here have. He decided to test my words by kissing me, that's all. Really, Moony, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were interested in Severus for yourself."

Remus sat up straight, giving him an intense stare, then lifted his chin and said, "Would you like me to bring Joshua here?"

Brand smirked and replied, "Sure, but I'll have to adjust the wards for him to even come on to the third floor, never mind this suite. So, why don't you help poor little me out so I can take care of that, then make sure I find my way back here safe and sound, hm?"

-----

When Joshua was escorted in his eyes were wide and uncertain, and even more so when he saw who was waiting for him. Brand nodded at Remus, then gestured at a chair for the boy, who hesitantly sat down as Remus ducked back out and closed the door.

"Hello, Joshua," Brand said gently. "I wanted to see for myself how you've been getting on. Is everything all right?"

"Um, yes, my lord."

Brand had to strain to hear the child's response. "There's no need to be frightened, Joshua. You aren't here because you're in trouble or anything like that. It's just that you're still kind of at loose ends. Your father was a bad man," he said bluntly, though softly, "and I'm not sorry I took care of him. However, that leaves you without a clear guardian. What I'd like to know is if you're getting on with Professor Snape, or if you would prefer someone else to watch over you."

Joshua's face took on a worried aspect as he shook his head violently. "I like Professor Snape, my lord."

"All right. So you'd like to stay under his care?"

Joshua nodded several times.

"Have you ever told him that?"

Joshua shrank back slightly in his chair.

"He can be hard to approach, huh?" Brand arched a brow and smiled, an invitation to share in his amusement. "That's all right. I think he's somewhat fond of you, actually." He paused, then said, "Is it that you're afraid because of the way your father treated you? That maybe Professor Snape won't wish to be bothered?"

Joshua just stared at him with wide eyes.

"Would you like me to talk to Professor Snape for you? I will, you know. And I don't mean that I'd order him. I'm not like that." He tilted his head slightly. "I don't like when people are forced into anything."

"What if he doesn't. . . ?"

"I don't really think that's cause for concern," Brand said casually. "But, even if it were, we'd find something you were happy with. I am responsible for what happened, so I intend to do everything in my power to make sure you aren't suffering further because of it. For reference, is there anyone else you like?"

"Mr Lupin is very kind, my lord," Joshua offered quietly.

Brand nodded. "He's a very gentle, kind man. I'll see what I can do. And, Joshua? I know that you're not very comfortable around me, especially after what I did, but I want you to know you can always talk to me if you need to, or want to. All you need to—" He broke off as the connecting door opened and Draco stepped into the room. "Well, it looks as if we're done for the moment," he said, then faced his mate. "Draco, would you do me a favor and escort Joshua back to an unrestricted level, please?"

"Of course, my lord," was the ready reply. "Joshua, if you would please follow me?" Several minutes later Draco had returned and flopped into a chair. "What was all that about?" he asked.

"Just checking to see if the boy was happy with Severus. He's pretty skittish around me, but I guess that's understandable." Brand shrugged and continued, "I had Moony bring him up since I told father I'd stay put today."

"And is he?"

"Sure, but I think Moony might be right in that the child is afraid of being rejected. He was very vague, and seemed quite scared of the idea of telling Severus how he felt."

"Rejected, or beaten?"

Brand shrugged. "There's no way to tell, I suppose, unless Joshua opens up some more. It's a miracle that Severus got him to spill what he did in the first place. Still, considering that he did, and the child seems to like him, I don't think he's worried about more abuse at his hands. Well, verbal abuse, maybe. Severus hasn't quite left that part of himself behind. Then again, most of the children are used to him. I think Joshua would take it badly, but I imagine that Severus isn't that unaware."

"Have you even read those reports yet?" Draco asked in a somewhat accusing manner.

"Yes. I skimmed them while I was alone. I didn't find anything of massive interest, either."

Draco arched a brow and nodded. "Do you want me to get Severus, then?"

Brand shook his head. "Why should you go running around?" He snapped his fingers, and when Maer appeared, said, "Would you please ask Severus to come here, Maer?"

"Certainly, master," said the little creature, then popped out.

"But I do think you should join me on the couch. I might get cold." Brand fluttered his lashes at Draco and tried to look forlorn.

Draco snorted and heaved himself up. "Right," he drawled as he moved over to sit beside him, then spent the next ten minutes making sure his mate couldn't possibly be in any discomfort or distress. It was only when a knock at the door sounded that Draco gently disengaged himself from a flushed Brand and sat back with a satisfied little smile on his face.

Brand cleared his throat and called out, "Enter!"

The door opened to reveal exactly who they were expecting, Severus Snape. Brand waved him in and to a chair, then said, "It's about Joshua," pausing when Draco nudged him in the ribs. After scowling at his mate he said, "Good afternoon, Severus."

"Brand." Severus inclined his head. "Draco. What about the boy?"

"Are you comfortable continuing to keep an eye on him? Happy?"

Severus arched a brow. "Yes, I am."

"Would you be willing to take him on in a more permanent sense?" Brand asked curiously.

After a decided pause Severus said evenly, "Yes."

Brand broke out into a smile. "I'm pretty sure that's what Joshua would like, but I think he's afraid to ask."

"I have been very careful of my demeanor around the boy," Severus stated. "Though," he added, "I am unsure as to his reaction were he to see me in my more customary role. Probably not well."

Brand waved a hand negligently. "And who is to say he needs to see that? Considering that it generally only comes out at this point away from the estate, does it matter?"

"And after the summer?"

"Remus can always school him, here on the estate," supplied Brand.

Severus arched a brow again. "I see. Remus has expressed interest?"

"Sure. I asked him earlier what role he'd like to take on in the new order. He seems to have been happy enough teaching, and I know that Joshua finds Remus to be a kind person."

"Do you . . . object?" asked Draco.

Severus shook his head. "To Remus, no. However, if I were to take on permanent guardianship of the boy, how will he feel when I then turn around and return to the school so quickly?"

"He wouldn't be in much different circumstances as most children, Severus," Brand pointed out. "They leave their families to go to Hogwarts. This is just flipped. And in any case, I can hope that it will be for only a year at worst. We will not start out as such a large community as to require a boarding school setup. Day students would make more sense, don't you think? If you really would prefer that he go to Hogwarts this year, we can arrange it, but it would create paperwork issues at the ministry. I don't think Dumbledore would react well to finding out that you had custody of a child. He would become far too inquisitive for my tastes, and I think yours."

"You have a point," Severus admitted with a slight frown. "Albus has called for a meeting a little later on today, prior to this evening's activities."

Brand frowned. "I think I'll just have to loan you a manticore-skin outfit I have laying around somewhere. I'm still concerned about your cover. I don't want anyone getting in a lucky stunner before you have a chance to use that portkey if it comes to it."

"As you wish. On another note, I'm going to need samples from you shortly."

-----

"Haven't you let this go on long enough?" asked Draco. "Why haven't you gone to see the twins?"

Brand ran a hand through his hair, ostensibly ignoring his mate's obvious frustration with him. "Draco, it's only been a week. Wouldn't you have wanted time to think things through? If I manage to snag Hermione this evening, then perhaps she could come with me when I go to see them. Heaven knows that if I show up again with another 'safe' person, they're going to start wondering."

Draco sat back and relaxed marginally. "I suppose so."

"Look, do you want to come with me? You can always lurk invisibly in the corner. I can't imagine that an interview will be much to watch, though."

"No, I'm more interested in this evening."

"Then why are you so fidgety?" In truth, he really didn't understand why Draco was acting so oddly.

Draco looked up and grimaced. "I just don't want you to get hurt, all right? She might reject you."

"Yes, I know. I won't lie and say that hasn't crossed my mind repeatedly. But, Draco, if she does . . . that's just the way it is. I'll be hurt, but I'm not going to die because of it. I made the decision a long time ago to separate and distance myself. This is an opportunity for something more, but I won't kid myself and say that everything will be all right. You can't protect me from everything that might happen," he said gently.

"That doesn't mean I can't try!"

Brand smiled and gave him a lingering kiss. "Thank you. Now push off so I can get ready. I'll only be gone for a few hours."

-----

Brand had spent the last two hours listening politely to her answers to the standard questions asked of anyone applying, succeeding in not rolling his eyes at some of the things she said, or how she said them. Part of him wanted to smile at her fondly, or indulgently, but he restrained himself admirably. It would have confused her for one thing.

When she finally wound down he did smile. Despite everything that they had gone through together, she was still rather naïve, and prone to the belief that intelligence and knowledge exhaustively displayed was a good thing. "Well, Miss Granger, you are quite impressive. While I will have to discuss things with my supervisor, I think I can safely say that we'll be welcoming you aboard shortly. With that in mind, I was wondering if you'd like to meet your potential colleagues in an informal setting."

"Informal setting?"

Brand nodded. "We had already planned a get together this evening after work for dinner. It has occurred to me that it might be a good chance for you to meet everyone and get to know them a little."

"But I'm not even hired yet, sir. They might resent the intrusion."

Brand waved his hand and said, "A technicality, I assure you. As I said, your records and your answers here today have been quite impressive. I have very little doubt that by the time dinner rolls around that I'll be able to tell you the good news."

"In that case, thank you, sir. I would love to come."

"Splendid! Would you prefer an escort or a portkey?"

"Sir?"

Brand couldn't decide if she was confused or wary by the choice. "My spouse would never forgive me if I simply handed over instructions," he said with an engaging smile. "Times are uncertain, as I'm sure you know. If you would prefer a portkey I will arrange for one. Otherwise, you can return here at seven and I'll escort you the remainder of the way."

"Yes, you're right. I will return at seven if that's all right, sir."

"I'll look forward to seeing you then." He smiled again as she stood, and stood as well to shake her hand, then sat back and pretended to shuffle papers as she exited the room. The moment the door closed Bentley appeared and gave him a bow. "I trust you'll get on fine with her," Brand said mildly.

"Yes, my lord. She is, as you say, impressive."

"I'll let you have your office back for now, then. I'll return shortly before seven, so please be ready."

"Yes, my lord."

Brand switched his appearance in a heartbeat and slid into invisibility, then left to hunt down the minister. After gaining his assurance that the girl's new job was secure he returned to the estate and rounded up his people for a quick meeting in his suite. After briefing them on what had happened after the interview he said, "I'll lead her into one of the dining rooms once we arrive."

"Are you having the halls cleared for this?" asked Remus.

Brand shook his head. "She'll see what I want her to see. The room I've chosen will be secured, not only the doors but with several suppressant fields. She won't be apparating out on us and from what I could tell, she hasn't an animagus form to worry about, though I'll prevent that as well."

"So when you arrive, we'll be in disguise."

"To begin with, yes. Once everything is ready, they can be dropped and we can get started. For reference, it's the dining room in the east wing, first floor."

"Conveniently near the travel room," said Draco with a slight smirk.

"Imagine that."

-----

He could tell she was nervous but determined to make a good impression. If he were to voice his own thoughts he would have to admit to being nervous himself, despite the calm and collected face he'd presented to his mate and friends. He really didn't want to have to obliviate her and construct a fantasy of some sort to replace what actually happened. So he led her, a friendly smile on his face, toward the dining room.

"Will your wife be joining us?" she asked.

Brand held back a cough and said noncommittally, "Our department is like one big happy family." With a repressed sigh of relief he paused in front of the doors to open one, then waved her through. A moment later he was inside, the door shut behind him and locked with a variety of spells. He made several gestures as he turned, then nodded at his companions and stepped up beside Hermione.

"I think it's time for introductions," he said cheerfully. "Miss Granger, I'm afraid that you're here under false pretenses, though I can say that you have been hired."

She stepped back, one hand moving toward where Brand assumed her wand was hidden. "What do you mean?"

Brand let his appearance melt back to his usual, then tossed back his auburn hair. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Brand Riddle."

"Riddle!?"

"Yes. I'm quite sure you remember something that seriously alarms you at this point. I am the son and heir of Lord Voldemort. And, if you'll consider calming down for a moment, I will explain why you're here this evening."

"You're mad."

Brand rolled his eyes and glanced at his companions. "Why do people keep saying that to me?" he asked them rhetorically. "Gentlemen, if you would?"

Every disguise in the room dropped abruptly, and Remus stepped forward. "Hermione?"

"Remus?" She stepped back further, her head jerking slightly as she hit the wall. "You're supposed to be dead."

"I am not," he replied. "And I know you can prove that to your own satisfaction, so why don't you go ahead? You can assure yourself of the identity of everyone here, for that matter."

As she considered, Brand took a seat at the table and snapped his fingers. When Maer appeared he said, "Maer, would you please serve?"

"Yes, master." Maer popped out immediately.

Hermione finally produced her wand and cast at Remus, her eyes widening in shock as she must have realized he was who he claimed to be. A moment later she turned and cast on each person in turn, then slumped slightly against the wall.

"Would you care to take a seat?" Brand said. "I wasn't kidding about dinner."

She shook her head and stared at him. "Why am I here? What do you intend to do?"

"Eat, for one thing," he said cheerfully as food appeared at every chair but one. "You were brought here so that certain truths could be revealed to you by various people. If you choose not to believe, then you'll be sent home, unharmed. And, naturally, quite forgetful of what actually happened here."

"You expect me to believe that?" she asked as the others took their places. And, finally realizing that she did know how to apparate, she tried, only to fail miserably. "Well, it looks like I don't have a choice, do I. You've trapped me here quite neatly." With a show of bravado that Brand found quite endearing, she marched over to one of the remaining empty seats and took it.

"Yes, you are trapped," he admitted. "Then again, that's only to ensure that you listen. I think I know you well enough to believe that you will hear us out and honestly consider the evidence we present."


	19. Just Dinner II

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 19: Just Dinner II —**

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She did not ask the expected question. Instead, she took several moments to look at her companions a second time, then shook her head and lifted her fork. With every appearance of calm, she began to eat. The others followed suit, so Brand did as well, casually asking Severus a minute later, "And did you speak with Joshua?"

"Yes. I believe he was quite relieved that the question of guardianship has been dealt with."

"Would you like me to create connecting doors, or assign you different quarters?"

"Doors would suffice, Brand."

He nodded. "I'll take care of it tomorrow, then."

"When do you want me to begin lessons?" Remus asked just as casually.

Brand arched a brow at Severus and shrugged.

"Not until the normal time, if you please," Severus said. "He should have his holiday just like any other child."

"All right," Remus said equitably. "Dare I hope that you'll provide me with what you consider to be adequate plans for Potions?"

"Naturally. It was not your strongest subject, after all."

Remus grinned and waggled his fork at Severus. "Be nice."

"I?"

Brand was amused to note that Hermione was following the conversation surreptitiously, or so she thought. Her expression betrayed her reaction to what she was hearing, practically shouting at anyone with the wit to interpret. "You can use what's already set up, Moony. I'm sure it will be no trouble to construct a greenhouse as well."

At that Hermione's head came up. "How dare you call him that?"

"He dares because I'm fine with it, Hermione," Remus said firmly. "You'll understand well enough once we've finished eating." Then he turned to Brand and smiled. "That would be nice. I can probably conduct most of his lessons in the gardens, actually."

"In what, dark magic?" she accused.

"Miss Granger," Severus said in a chill, clipped voice, "you would do well to actually display that vaunted intelligence of yours."

"I actually trusted you," she said tersely. "And you," she said to Remus.

"Miss Granger," interjected Draco, "if you cannot be civil, I will silence you for the remainder of the meal."

Brand shot Draco a look, then said, "Since you seem adverse to the idea of polite conversation during dinner, I will begin perhaps a bit earlier than I had anticipated. I was not entirely lying when I said you would be meeting your potential colleagues, Miss Granger."

She sat up straight as a grimace twisted her face. "Potential colleagues!? You don—" She stopped as Draco shifted in his chair. "I see," she said after a moment.

"Whether you wish to accept it or not, more than half of the ministry belongs to us. I purposely took the place of Bentley for your interview, and personally made sure that you would be hired on. Bentley is, without doubt, enjoying a lovely home-cooked meal with his wife and children as we speak." Then, an impish smile crossed his face as he turned to Draco. "You might be interested to know that Miss Granger asked if my wife would be joining us."

To Hermione's obvious surprise, Draco burst out laughing, as did Remus. Even Severus smiled. After getting himself under control Draco said, "I hope you don't expect me to wear a dress anytime soon, Brand."

He smirked. "Now that you mention it . . . no. I don't think I could handle you in drag." He turned back to Hermione and said, "In any case, you were brought here this evening so that certain truths could be revealed to you. Things that all of us think you would be interested to know. Some of those things concern your dear friend Harry Potter."

"What do I need to know? You killed him."

"In a manner of speaking, yes. You're quite right. You sit there, at this moment, secure in the belief that Lord Voldemort is evil. That we killed Harry Potter. That Severus and Remus are traitors. As for Draco, you never liked him anyway. Would it interest you to know, Miss Granger, that it was Draco who suggested we contact you?"

The surprise was back, followed by wariness.

"Draco is quite aware of what Harry means to you, and you to him."

"You make it sound like Harry is still alive. But I watched him die."

Draco rolled his eyes dramatically. "Ever heard of illusions, Granger? Polyjuice?"

She retreated to her meal, so they resumed their own. When she was done, Brand snapped his fingers again. "Maer, would you be so kind as to have this cleared away? Thank you."

Then he stood and approached the sideboard, crouching down to open the doors and pull out several pensieves. After placing them on the table he said, "As you can see, Miss Granger, these are empty. And, as you've already determined, we are who we claim to be. While I do not expect you to trust either myself or Draco, I would expect you would at least hear Remus out. Either way, you'll be gifted with a few memories to watch and digest. Moony?"

Remus nodded and stood as Brand resumed his seat. "Hermione, I expect that you're as confused as I was the day I was captured. Of course, I was sent here to spy. The only reason I'm alive is because of Brand. Because of the circumstances I was given a choice, and I chose to remain once I realized what Albus was up to."

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes. He is not the man you think he is, Hermione. It was a harsh truth for me to accept." She shook her head stubbornly. "And I can see it will be just as harsh for you. However, if you cannot accept the truth, Brand will be true to his word. You'll be allowed to leave, unharmed. You simply won't remember anything of what happened here."

She crossed her arms over her chest and tightened her mouth.

Remus sighed and pulled one of the pensieves over to him, then began transferring memories to it. When he was done he pushed it to her. "See for yourself, if you dare."

She gave him a distrustful look, but entered.

"What'd you place inside?" Brand asked.

"A number of things, some of which is supposed to establish that I really am Remus. Aside from that? Seeing you in the audience chamber, when I was confined and you came for me, but not what I saw in your suite, or even afterward. Not yet, anyway. Our visit to the twins. What Albus said to me and the conversation that followed here. My second capture, and Percy. Things like that."

Brand nodded. "She'll be very confused. Severus, you brought veritaserum, right?"

"Of course."

It was quite some time before she emerged, and by then Remus and Draco had started a game of Exploding Snap while Brand and Severus talked quietly. She worried her lower lip before saying, "You would have me believe that Professor Dumbledore is a monster."

"That is for you to decide," Brand said, catching her attention. "Would you care to see more?" Hermione gave the barest of nods, so he continued, "Some of this may overlap," as he pulled an empty pensieve to him. As Remus began retrieving his memories from the first, Brand added his to the second, then pushed it at her. He had included what Remus had not.

When she did emerge her eyes were both troubled and hopeful, wary and confused. "You would have me believe that you used to be Harry."

"Yes. Either Remus is completely insane and we all share a common delusion, or it's the truth. Obviously, I proved it to his satisfaction."

"And the whole reason you're here is because wizarding folk abhor homosexuality."

Brand smiled. "Not exactly. Maybe my memories weren't clear enough. I'm here because of what Dumbledore did to me. Remus is here because Dumbledore was willing to have him killed as being no longer useful. Severus is here because Dumbledore cannot be trusted, but I can be. Do you think that Dumbledore can be trusted, Hermione?"

She turned to Draco. "You mentioned illusions and polyjuice. How do I know these memories aren't staged with clever tricks? And why would you, of all people, want me on this side? Is it so sweet to watch me flounder?"

Draco sighed and yanked a pensieve over, dropping a single memory into it. As he pushed it over he said to Brand, "You're going to pay for this one."

"I'm all a'quiver."

She was back in minutes, giving Draco a very strange look as he retrieved his memory.

"Don't obsess over it, Granger," he said shortly.

Brand was very curious, but chose to wait until later to bring it up with his mate. "Questions so far?"

She nodded sharply. "The same. How do I know this isn't a bunch of clever tricks?"

"Would veritaserum change your mind?" he offered.

"How would I know it was real?" she countered.

Brand slapped his forehead in exasperation.

"If you prefer, we can adjourn to the lab and you can brew your own supply, Miss Granger," Severus said.

"That would take hours."

"How kind of you to notice."

"Severus," Brand growled.

"Or, you could submit to a small test of what I brought with me."

Surprisingly, she nodded. "Fine. There's every chance I'll end up dead anyway, so why not?"

Brand gave a sigh of relief and nodded.

"Then I expect you will do your best to lie, Miss Granger," Severus said as he stood and rounded the table. After letting her examine the vial, he administered three drops. When her eyes went slightly glazed in appearance, he nodded at Remus.

"What is your name?" Remus asked.

"Hermione Jane Granger," she replied with a slight frown.

"Were you surprised when you and your parents were not attacked on the evening of the eighth?"

"Yes."

Remus paused, then asked, "Were you proud of being able to brew polyjuice potion in your second year?"

"Yes."

"Are you satisfied that this veritaserum is genuine?"

"Yes."

"Severus?"

Severus administered the antidote, then waited. Eventually she shook her head and looked up again, clear eyed. "All right," she said, then pointed at Brand.

He shrugged and nodded at Severus, who came to his side to administer the potion.

"What name were you born with?" she asked.

"Harry James Potter." He thought it was an interesting experience to be under the influence of veritaserum, though he was not actively trying to struggle against the effects.

"Why did you turn yourself over to Voldemort?"

"Because Dumbledore made it very plain to me that I was simply his pawn, to be used and thrown away when my purpose was done with. He was not willing to believe that I could remain silent about being homosexual and chained me as a result. I felt at that time that it was better to die at the hands of Voldemort than to live any more of the lie."

"Why didn't you talk to me? Tell me?"

"Dumbledore could hear every word that I spoke until father removed his spell. If Dumbledore had known you were aware of what he called my deviant nature, you might have been hurt as well. I could not stand to have that on my conscience and thought it was better in the long run for you to believe I was dead, especially if you were as against homosexuality as the wizarding world."

"You could have written it down," she hissed, then asked, "Why didn't you?"

"You might have turned on me, as he did. We always thought that if there was one person who could be trusted, it was Dumbledore. I was too afraid to let you know."

Her expression softened slightly. "Why am I here?"

"Because you deserve to know the truth, and make your own choices. It was worth the risk to see if I could get my sister back."

Her lip trembled at that and her eyes became rather shiny. After a moment, wherein she dropped her eyes, she said softly, "Professor Snape, I'm done."

Brand accepted the antidote, absently pleased at her reaction, and glad that in a few moments he would no longer be drugged. Severus returned to his seat, vials vanishing somewhere in his cloak. A minute later Brand blinked several times and tilted his head. "Hermione?"

When she didn't respond he moved to kneel by her chair. "Hermione?" he asked again, more softly.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, reaching out to wrap her arms around him. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you."

"Hey, it's okay. It's a crazy thing to have to accept," he said as quietly, reaching up to stroke her hair. They stayed like that for several minutes, him not minding at all that his shoulder was getting wet, until she pulled away and wiped at her eyes.

"Why do you look like that?" she asked in a shaky voice.

He grinned up at her. "Don't you think it would have made the world a bit nuts if Harry Potter was seen prancing around as an evil minion? But to answer your question, I'm a metamorphmagus, like Tonks."

She gave him a tremulous smile. "I'm not sure I can go back," she confessed. "I want to scratch his eyes out."

Brand chortled and shrugged. "He'll get his, though I admit that might be fun to watch. You can stay if you want, but you'd have to send a message to your parents."

"I—Voldemort?"

"That is not a concern, Miss Granger," Severus interjected. "He was all for this plan, if I recall correctly."

"Would you like to meet him?" Brand offered tentatively. "I promise you, he's not what he's been painted as."

Hermione glanced over at Remus, who was nodding, then back at Brand. "O-okay."

Brand smiled and rose, then bent over to kiss her forehead. As he gestured at the doors he sent, _:Father?:_

_:Yes, son?:_

_:Would you like to join us, please? She's a bit shaky, but she's willing to be introduced.:_

_:I will be there momentarily.:_

Brand took the seat next to Hermione. "He'll be here shortly."

"How?" she asked.

Brand tapped the side of his head. "You know that I could share his experiences, and he could send me dreams. Turns out, I can talk with father telepathically as well. It's quite handy."

Just then one of the doors opened and Voldemort stepped in, closing it behind him before advancing further into the room. "Miss Granger, a pleasure to meet you."

She, unlike Remus, went with the tried and true. "Good evening, sir."

Voldemort pulled out the chair Brand had originally been using and seated himself. "I can see that you are quite curious about certain things, Miss Granger. You may ask."

She started slightly, then settled as Brand laid a hand over hers. "You . . . look different, sir."

Voldemort gave a faint shrug. "As I recall, Brand made a rather snide remark about my appearance the day he came to me." He flashed her a small smile and continued, "So I decided to remedy that, for his sake."

"I'm muggleborn, sir."

"Yes. But you are important to Brand, and that is what matters. There is more to it than that, but I think it would be easier on you if he were to explain in more detail. There are a great number of things you would want to know that would affect your upcoming decisions, young lady. You may find that you do not agree with our vision. Despite that, you are more than welcome to stay if you wish."

Her brows drew together, but she nodded.

"I would advise," he continued, "that you do stay overnight at the very least. I think Brand would be devastated if you did not." Then he turned to Brand and said, "I trust you will be protecting her mind, son."

"Of course, father. I didn't interrupt anything did I?"

Voldemort flicked his fingers. "A meeting with Lucius. Don't worry about it. I told him it would only be a few minutes. And on that note, I will take my leave. Enjoy your stay, Miss Granger." He rose and inclined his head, then swept off.

Hermione turned to him and said, "My mind?"

Brand nodded. "Protection, so that you cannot be forced to spill any of our secrets. If you mean to stay, and by that I don't necessarily mean move here, then I would need to protect you."

"May I borrow an owl?"

"How about something a little quicker? I know you aren't all that keen on house elves, Hermione, but an owl might take long enough to seriously worry your parents. Either that, or one of us could deliver a message."

She gave him a slightly accusatory look, then said, "They know about house elves, so they wouldn't be startled. I don't understand how one would find them, though."

"How did Dobby find me originally?" he countered. "Come on, let's all go up to my suite. It's more comfortable." He rose and took her hand as Remus grabbed the pensieves, and led her off to his suite.

Though they had encountered several people along the way, not one of them recognized her due to his unobtrusive use of illusion to disguise her features. Once inside his suite he dragged her over to the couch and flopped down beside her. "Oh, paper."

Draco rolled his eyes and produced both paper and a muggle pen, handing them to Hermione. She dashed off a note and folded it, then looked at Brand, who snapped his fingers.

"Hermione, this is Maer. Maer, this is my good friend Hermione. We were hoping you would consent to deliver a message to her parents for us."

"Certainly, master. Maer is being happy to."

After giving Brand another dark look Hermione held out the note and said, "Thank you, Maer. I appreciate your help."

"Miss Hermione is welcome," Maer replied as he accepted the paper, then popped out.

"Harry, really," Hermione said, but stopped when he pressed a finger to her lips.

"That, unfortunately, cannot be allowed."


	20. Talking

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

* * *

**— 20: Talking —**

* * *

"It's too easy to slip up," he said. "All it takes is one mistake. So let me take care of that now."

When he removed his hand she said, "What exactly does that mean?"

"Two things. First, a coercion to prevent you from calling me Harry, or speaking of it except with me. Remus, Draco, and Severus are all similarly affected. You see, only five people know who I was. Well, six if you count me. Second, a more encompassing protection, one that literally locks away your knowledge from those who might attempt to wrest it from you. All that means is that things like veritaserum and the imperius curse can't force you to reveal what you know. And, you won't be plagued by inadvertent slips of the tongue. Everyone here with any idea of what's going on is protected."

"Does it hurt?"

Brand grinned. "Only me!" When she frowned he explained further. "No, it doesn't hurt. As for me, all that happens is I get a bit wiped out. Don't worry, honestly."

"Speaking of which," said Remus as he snapped his fingers. "Clip, would you be kind enough to bring up some refreshments for us, please?"

"Yes, Master Remus. Right away." Clip popped out and was back in moments with a large selection of drinks. After a bobbed bow, he was gone.

"Not you, too," Hermione accused.

Remus raised his hands in a gesture of submission. "Sorry, Hermione. But, one thing you'll learn here is that everyone is very kind to house elves. They are bonded, but their situation doesn't differ all that much from Dobby's."

She huffed and sat back, seemingly reassured for the moment. "All right."

"Let's get started, then," Brand said, then began running conditions through his mind as an incandescent sphere formed in his palm. When he was ready he flicked it at her, almost smiling at the look of surprise on her face as it impacted. "That was the easy one," he commented, then set about fully protecting her.

A butterbeer was shoved into his hands fifteen minutes later and he gratefully sank back and drank, waving off Hermione's obvious concern. "I'm fine," he said between gulps, then drained the bottle and reached for a second. "There's a lot to cover. Who wants to start?"

And so it went for the next several hours. Hermione was, to his eyes, trying her best to consider both sides given what she was hearing and how radical some of it must appear to her. "Hermione, is isn't like anyone would ask you to never see your parents again," he protested. "It isn't even that anyone would ask you to move with us. I mean, we would, but no one would expect you to just drop everything and sever all contact."

"But, to send away all squibs?"

"I ask that you be logical about this, and think about things long term. Right now, there are very few people, wizarding or muggle, who can coexist peacefully if they know about each other. Tell me, do you think that muggle scientists would be able to hold back from examining you? Picking you apart to see how it is you can do magic? The military? Do you think that most wizarding folk could look on muggles, or squibs, with much more than disdain, or worse, pity?"

"Do you think," added Remus, "that it's kinder or more cruel to let squibs grow up in the muggle world, knowing that they can never do magic?"

"You're proposing to kidnap all magical children as well," she protested.

Brand shrugged. "That's the other side of the same coin. Look at father. His own father walked away and let his mother die, let his own son be placed in an orphanage that abused him, simply because they were magical. The Dursleys did their best to squash the magic out of me as well. You are so lucky, Hermione, to have parents who love you and support you."

She shook her head violently. "No, I can't accept that. If you had said you meant to take only children who were abused, then maybe."

"A compromise? I'll talk to father about it."

She didn't look entirely satisfied with that. "So, um, why were we targeted?"

Brand grinned immediately. "Because we had no intention of hurting you."

"I'm sure that will make sense once you explain."

"Of course. If you think back to the memories I shared, Remus needed something to take back, right?"

"That's right," she said, placing one finger to her lower lip. "It was just for show. But what about the others? I don't entirely understand the motive behind what you did to Percy, either."

"Percy was originally slated to be killed," Remus said, ignoring her soft gasp to continue, "however, considering that we have every intention of stealing people from Dumbledore, that sounded like a pretty stupid thing to do. Brand erased several years from his memory, that's all, and we left behind something which will cast a little doubt on him. Since he can't answer any questions about it, it's more or less harmless."

"Harmless? You stole part of his life!"

"Did we?" asked Brand. "Right now there's every chance his family will take him back without much trouble. Trouble that originally manifested because of me. He won't remember the argument he had with Arthur, which is another huge sticking point, and I think Arthur realizes that even if Molly is having hysterics. Of course, we have no idea of the reactions of his siblings."

Hermione darted a glance at Severus, who nodded, then looked back to Brand. "Ron doesn't know if he should be happy or not. You know how he is. There's a lot of pent up anger in him over what happened."

Brand nodded, then said, "Forgive me if this sounds cruel, but Ron often can't see past his own character flaws. He is very passionate, but he's also quick to anger, to feel jealousy, and be driven to suspicion. One may or may not claim that he has a knack for strategy based on chess, but if you step beyond that, his personality tends to make that more or less incidental. If he can't think straight, strategy is worthless. But, to bring this back around to Percy, my first guess would be that Ron might perceive the advantage, and yet still wish to punish his brother for his transgressions, despite him not being able to remember."

"You aren't planning on contacting him, are you."

"Unless you can think of an excellent reason why we should," said Severus, "no."

"It's rather funny." Brand tapped the side of his face with one finger. "Ron has had almost everything I longed for—a family who loved him being the foremost—and now he no longer has Harry's shadow to obscure him. And yet, I can imagine a scenario where one of his desires was answered, such as winning a large sum of money, and him becoming unhappy because he still did not have as much as others might."

"You are cruel," Hermione stated.

"Yes, but honest. I lied to you far too often in school, Hermione. I will not do so now, even to spare feelings."

She looked off to the side and sighed. "You have no need to, now."

"Nope," he said cheerfully. "Well, I do, just not in the same sense. I can't very well strut down Diagon Alley as Harry, now can I."

She gave him a weak smile and said, "Semantics. And the others?"

"We think the twins might fit in real nice. Maybe Tonks. Possibly the older Weasley children. Past that, we're still considering. It's just easier to start with people we all know."

"Brand, despite what . . . your father . . . said, I am still muggleborn. How is it possible that the people under his control could possibly accept me as one of their own?"

"Well, if they can't, they aren't going to fit into the spiffy little utopia we have planned, are they? It isn't like anyone has kicked up a fuss over Moony. Still, that's the difference between being in charge and being part of the complement. Father listens to whatever his people have to say, but that doesn't mean he agrees with everything, and it doesn't mean he won't deal out punishment as he sees fit."

"Or you, for that matter," interjected Draco with a slight smirk.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and gave him a look that was just shy of demanding, causing Brand to sigh and look at Remus. "A pensieve, please?" After one was handed over Brand extracted his memory of the Joshua incident and dropped it in, then handed the device to Hermione. When she was back he retrieved it and waited patiently.

"I'm not sure how to react," she said after a minute.

"Hermione, it would be so much easier if I could just play my memories for you like a film. Memories of so many things, large and small, that would help you to understand. I think everyone here, in this room, can tell you of the number of times I've sat down and questioned what I'm doing. I'm not always certain I'm steering clear of the shoals, but they help to keep things steady. Believe me when I say that morality plays a large part in my life. But, there comes a time when you have to look down from that fence of neutrality and make decisions, and decide how much you can bear in the name of something better, and at which point you've crossed the line into delusional self-appeasement and gratuitous action. You're protected now, nothing will change that. And knowing that, I can let you walk away if that's what you truly wish."

She was silent for a long time, absently preparing a cup of tea and taking several sips. "Conventional morality has no place here."

"It doesn't," Brand agreed. "And, let us be honest. Conventional is a concept which differs from culture to culture. Quite frankly, it sickens me to know that in some cultures it is considered perfectly acceptable for a father to take his daughter's virginity before handing her off to her new husband."

"Let me ask you something, then. Let's say, for the sake of theory, that you and your father find a new place to settle everyone. Are you really going to trust every single person to keep the secret? You're either going to have to place coercions on everyone or restrict movement."

Brand blinked and exchanged a look with Remus.

"If you restrict movement, you'd potentially have a lot of disgruntled people on your hands. Placing apparation wards might prevent that method, but it would also prevent your people being able to learn the skill as well. Unless, that is, you know of some way to make them such that you can apparate within, but not through."

She had another sip of her tea, then said, "I suppose it would be possible—again, in theory—to construct something that planted or reinforced a coercion whenever a person left the limits of the . . . settlement. After all, I'd never read anything about them and yet you can do it, so I suppose it depends a great deal on just what you're capable of."

"Well," Brand said slowly, "as far as the secret goes, I think location should be denied. I don't think the name matters."

She nodded. "You'd want word to spread, wouldn't you? You might gain more people that way."

"If you're interested, Pansy has brought me a great deal of information on wizarding families. We were hoping to solve the puzzle of why squibs are born."

She brightened at that, but kept to the previous subject. "And what about immigrants? How would you handle that?"

"There are plenty of things to be worked out yet, so if you feel like working up some ideas on those things, I'd be happy to see what you come up with," Brand responded. "Would you be interested in visiting the twins with me tomorrow?"

"Don't you think that might make them believe I could be the next to disappear?"

"That's possible," he agreed, "but you won't. And when you don't, their suspicions will be eased."

"Perhaps. We'll just have to see, won't we?"

Brand smiled and nodded.

"I am feeling a bit tired."

"I'll show you to a room, then." Brand rose, waiting until she did, then showed her to one of the empty rooms along the corridor outside. After a quick consultation with Maer, Rigas was assigned to help Hermione if she needed anything, then Brand returned to his own suite. "I think that went well."

Nods erupted around the room, then Severus and Remus both stood and said their good-byes for the evening and left. Brand turned and pinned Draco with a look.

Draco heaved a sigh. "All right, all right." He pulled the empty pensieve over and deposited a memory, then sat back with a petulant expression on his face.

_Draco was pacing. His suite looked almost unlived in. Draco was pacing, muttering  
under his breath. _

Brand moved in closer, hoping to hear what was being said.

_"Damn stupid idiot. Why doesn't he get it? I keep trying to show him, but he's blind to  
everything." Draco ran rough hands through his hair, completely disheveling his  
normally immaculately coifed hair._

_"You would think," he said, pausing to kick a chair, "that pointing out the things that  
would make him happy would clue him in, but no! Does he honestly think I would  
suggest plans to garner support from people like Granger if I thought it would make  
him unhappy? If I didn't think it would be in his best interests?"_

_Draco sighed and dropped into a chair, brushing the nap back and forth. "He should  
know by now that I find it hard to say the words. Didn't I accept his godfather? Didn't  
I—" He broke off and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Is it that he thinks I  
do these things only out of obligation? Duty? Honestly. I always knew he was oblivious,  
but this is ridiculous. It had to be those stupid muggles. How I wish I could drag the lot  
of them here to be tortured for their sins. He's never once talked of retribution."_

_He rose and started pacing again, pausing as he caught sight of his reflection in a  
mirror. "Dear Merlin, I can't let anyone see me looking like this."_

Brand emerged with a laugh. "I'm quite sure you meant it in an affectionate way when you called me an idiot," he said to Draco as the man snatched the pensieve away from him and took back his memory.

"It wasn't like I ever expected you to see that," Draco replied with a sniff. "Speaking of which, why haven't you ever mentioned retribution against the Dursleys?"

Brand blinked. "Why? Because it would only serve to prove their point."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"And you call me oblivious? Draco, if I were to have them brought here for torture, do you honestly think it would serve any purpose other than to cause them pain? It wouldn't change their opinions. It would serve to make them believe they always had been right. We're all freaks, remember? The only thing that would change is that they would finally have to face the fact that I'm old enough, and powerful enough, to not be scared of them, and to deal out some treatment in kind. I lived through it. I survived. Their deaths would be nothing more than petty revenge. They don't deserve to die for being prejudiced twits."

Draco gave him a cool look, then said, "And this differs from Dumbledore, how?"

"Ignorance differs. The Dursleys are afraid of what they don't understand, and they'll resist any attempts to be shown the truth. Dumbledore knew better. He also believed that he had enough power over me that I would not, could not, resist him. His ignorance will be his downfall. He aided and abetted my relatives, either by turning a blind eye or because he never bothered to check on me. Which, I don't know. But he did know I did not have it easy, and that made things simpler for him, my personal savior. He was far too sure that I would do what was required of me because I had no other choice, no one else to turn to. Obviously, he was wrong."

"I'm still not sure I understand."

"Let me try it this way, then. Let's just suppose that Harry Potter defeated Voldemort. He would, in theory, be free forever of the Dursleys. That alone would have been worth it. I don't want to see them again. They make my skin crawl. Frankly, I would bet that even now when anything goes wrong they blame me. They can never escape me, Draco. They are probably still quite pathetic, unable to move past the time when I was forced on them. But what of Harry Potter? He defeats the evil Dark Lord, and what happens then? Is he left alone to find out what it really means to live? I think not. He's probably feted endlessly, stalked by reporters, pushed around by Dumbledore, and Merlin knows what else. Even, possibly, dead, engineered by Dumbledore's hand now that his purpose is served, and so that he cannot one day awaken to his circumstances and decide to push back."

Draco frowned thoughtfully.

"The fact is that I did wake up. I've occasionally wondered, you know, if Dumbledore was a Slytherin. Still, if he was, he wasn't enough of one. If he had had any sense whatsoever, he would have waited, and kept watching me to see if I would act on my nature. Instead he was blunt, even more so than he had been at the end of the previous year. It's not wise to tell your pet that you don't trust it. If he'd had any sense he would have obliviated me of those events so that I would have been left wondering who had chained me. He would have hidden the bracelet from my eyes. He would have pretended to be searching for a way to help me."

"You woke up with a vengeance." Draco flashed him a smile and nodded. "All right, and I suppose you're right. I don't think Potter would have had a moment to himself. And, considering what he's done to others under his command, I guess you may have ended up dead after all was said and done. Though, perhaps he was a Ravenclaw? That might explain, to some degree, his lack of understanding of others."

Brand shrugged. "Maybe someday I'll bother to find out for sure. Such as, after he's dead."

Draco stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles, then said, "Do you think the real ghosts of Hogwarts could find a way to interfere in your plans?"

Brand blinked and pushed himself upright. "That's an excellent question."

-----

"Ready?" he asked in a low voice.

"Absolutely," she replied, a slightly nervous smile on her face.

"Now, I mean no offense, but I know that you aren't at your best when it comes to spur of the moment things, so just stick to the plan, okay?" Brand gave her an affectionate smile and a slight wink.

Hermione gave him an affronted look as she switched her bag from Flourish & Blotts to her other hand, then nodded. "Beast."

He smirked and said, "Don't fight it. I know my charm is hard to resist, dear lady. Now, think happy thoughts about your new job, and let us go in." Brand took a moment to disable the door mechanism, then glided in after Hermione, a faint smile gracing his lips.

Almost immediately the twins looked up and over, their forms stiffening slightly as they realized that once again their customers had not been pranked, and that they recognized both of them. "Hermione!" they called out in unison.

Playing her part passing well, Hermione strode over quickly with a beaming smile. "I just got the best news!"

The twins smiled, possibly because she was in such good spirits, but it did not escape Brand's notice that they looked on him with some suspicion.

"I've been hired at the ministry," she said brightly. "The interview went very well, I think. It must have, since I'm now employed." Then she paused, bit her lip, and said, "I'm sorry. You two know Brand, right?"

"We've met," they said with identical nods.

"That reminds me. Have any of you heard from Remus?" Brand asked with innocent concern.

Hermione let out a fairly believable gasp and turned. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?" Brand glanced from her to the twins, then back.

"He's gone missing, believed dead," she admitted, turning away slowly as though she could not bear to see his reaction.

"Dead," Brand repeated in a flat tone. "Please tell me you don't think he finally gave up. He was fine the last time I saw him."

The twins exchanged a look, then said, "When was that?"

"Here, actually. I know he was tired and depressed, but I really thought he was okay." Brand flicked his hair behind his shoulder and stared at Hermione's back for a moment. When she remained facing away he turned his inquiring gaze on the twins.

"That was also the last time we saw him, though he did send us an owl the day he disappeared," they offered, now more confused than suspicious of him.

"So he's missing? Hasn't anyone even tried to use locating spells?" he asked.

"They did try," said Hermione softly. "There was no trace of him."

Brand smirked inwardly, thinking of the warding at the estate. "Well unless I see a body, I refuse to believe he's dead," he stated. "For all we know he's locked up somewhere by someone who—" He stopped, growled softly, then said, "Hermione, sorry, but I need to go think about this. I'll let you know if I find anything." After nodding at the twins, Brand swept off, once again avoiding the trap on the door.

What the twins didn't know was that he was back within seconds with a completely different look. After laughing heartily on recovering from being turned into a man-sized canary, he wandered off among the aisles of goods, slipping an extendible ear out of his pocket so he could listen in unobtrusively.

"Who is that guy?" Fred demanded.

"Brand? I've known him for a while. Remus introduced us."

'Not quite truth, not quite a lie. Very good, Hermione,' Brand thought.

"Why? Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"We don't know," said George. "The only other time we saw him was when he came in with Remus. He seemed quite supportive, actually."

"That hardly surprises me. I think they were very close, and we all know that Remus was devastated when. . . ." She shook her head. "In any case, he's always been very nice to me."

"He's not . . . part of the old crowd?" asked Fred.

Hermione snorted, causing the twins to give her an odd look. "Sorry. From what I understand, Brand doesn't feel that, er, the head of that crowd is all that trustworthy, though he never said why in my hearing. Of course, everyone has a right to their opinion."

The twins exchanged another look. After a moment George said, "We overheard something the day they were here. Apparently, Remus and Sirius were together."

Hermione played dumb and said, "Of course they were. They were best friends."

"Hermione," Fred hissed, "I meant as in lovers."

"Oh," she replied mildly. "Now that you mention it, I suppose I can see the signs if I think back."

Brand almost laughed as the twins exchanged a third look and ducked his head briefly, ostensibly to examine the contents of the shelf he stood in front of.

"That doesn't bother you?" asked George.

"Why should it? After all—" She stopped and narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you two believe that rubbish about it being unnatural. I swear, the wizarding world is mired in antiquity when it comes to certain things."

Before she had a chance to head full steam into a rant Fred headed her off with a sharp motion of his hand. "That's not it. Neither of us cares."

She deflated, then cast an odd look at them. "What? You don't think what Brand said might have some accuracy do you? That he gave up?"

"No, we don't. Look, why don't you stop by for lunch tomorrow and we'll talk. You can tell us all about your new job."

"Oh, I'd love to," she said with girlish enthusiasm. "It's so exciting! But don't think I'll forget about what you just said." She gave them both a quick wave, then turned and left.

The twins did not bother to see if the mechanism went off. "Is it me, or is she acting a bit oddly?" asked Fred.

"She was, but maybe we can get something out of her tomorrow, without that other fellow around. Do you think we should have Tonks come as well?"

Fred nodded. "I think there's a very good chance that, knowing how her mind works, she'll be as upset as we are, and very likely feel betrayed. What I'm not sure of is whether or not she would run straight to the old man to have it out with him."

"Then we'll just have to be delicate, won't we. Look, I'm going to owl Tonks."

Several minutes later Brand stepped up to the counter and placed a selection of items down for purchase.

-----

"I told you, don't worry. My protections cannot be subverted. They are going to try to get you to talk about me, though. You do not have permission to admit to knowing my last name, by the way, but if you like, you can say I'm something of a riddle to you."

It took a moment for the look of anger to subside, but when it did, Hermione laughed outright. "Something of a riddle?"

"They plan on trying to ease into explaining about the letter that was left behind. Thanks, by the way, for handing over that extendible ear. It was very useful. You should also expect Tonks to be present. If I'm reading things rightly, they're on the verge of breaking from Dumbledore. I trust you to do what you need in order to find out exactly what they have planned."

"And what if they are willing? I can't very well invite them for afternoon tea at the estate."

Brand chuckled. "Well, no. Not yet, anyway. Which reminds me, I need to get Bentley to send you an owl about when you'll be starting. That is, if you really would like to take that position. He was present during your interview and was quite impressed."

"Even if I had denied what you were telling me," she stated.

"Of course. You wanted the job, and either way, you're under my protection. And"—he gave her a look of mingled affection and annoyance—"I really hope you aren't going to give me a lecture about using my influence for personal gain."

Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, then snapped shut. After a moment she said, "Please be nice. I'm still trying to come to terms with things. The fact that it's you makes things that much easier, and that much harder to cope."

"Of course I'll be nice. Besides, I know you're dying to get your hands on that data Pansy brought over. I would be thrilled beyond words if you, or you and a team, could figure out how to prevent squibs. My father also mentioned that you might be interested in helping with the effort toward finding a new home for all of us."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you quite certain I'm not in a coma at St Mungo's having especially peculiar dreams?"

"Ever heard of the term lucid dreaming?" he countered.

"Yes, I—oh. I'll have to think about that."

"Do you have any idea why you weren't invited to join the Order?"

She shook her head. "It's never come up. After . . . Harry died, I admit I wasn't in any shape to be thinking about it, either. After a while, I just stuck with my studies."

"Then I'll need to ask Severus for details, or Remus. If there's any chance you might be approached, I'll need to know in advance whether you should accept or decline the offer." After seeing her expression he said, "Well, if there's anything which could betray you, I think it'd be best to decline, don't you? I'm not arbitrarily making decisions for you, Hermione. I'm not Dumbledore. I am going to do what I can to make sure you remain safe. If you would prefer you can ask one of them personally what was involved in joining. If they aren't able to explain, they should at least be able to say if it's wise or not should you be approached."

She nodded. "That's reasonable. Now, I need to go see my parents. They're probably worried by now. I'll come back sometime after lunch tomorrow to let you know how things went, all right?"

"Call for Rigas when you arrive so he can inform me. I'll come get you. For the moment I don't want everyone to know about you as you've not been announced to the general complement. I'll have to work up something with a focus that will tie into the estate wards to keep your identity concealed until we're ready for that. The last thing I want is another Stirling to pop up behind my back."


	21. A Slight Problem

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

* * *

**— 21: A Slight Problem —**

* * *

Brand did, in fact, spend several hours that evening working on an innocuous piece of jewelry for Hermione that would function only within the wards of the estate to conceal her identity. To keep suspicion off, the item itself wasn't exactly magical. It was more of a case that the wards would recognize it and respond with the desired results.

It was generally at times like this that Brand speculated as to how he was able to do certain things, but as was his custom, he quickly shrugged off the mystery, preferring to simply accept. However, he did acknowledge that it would be nice if he could teach others to do some of what he could. Unfortunately, he knew that even with the library of rare and ancient texts his father had, not everyone could make use of them.

The next morning was spent on breakfast with his father, in which they briefly discussed Hermione's objections, and then with the students, mainly drilling and testing the contacts on the contracted code. He had informed his friends in an aside that his father had told him just that morning that recruiters had tentatively recommended a score of names to be initiated into the Death Eater ranks, something that he would have to look into being the only one who could easily and unnoticeably filter through their minds for their real thoughts on the matter.

Lunch was a fairly quiet affair, and Brand saw fit afterward to lounge near the travel room to await Hermione's coming, preferring to be very close by so as to cut down on the chances that anyone would realize she was there before her identity could be concealed. He was inside the travel room within a minute of Rigas telling him of her arrival, his hand holding out the necklace he had made.

"Try this on. If it works. . . ."

She gave him a curious look, but took it and fastened it around her neck. Brand immediately smiled broadly and conjured up a mirror, and she appeared quite startled at a glimpse of herself.

"Now, that should work _only_ on the estate. Just to be safe, though, when you do leave, go someplace quiet and check. If it's not working properly, remove it, obviously, and use it again for your next visit. I'll figure out what went wrong then. Otherwise, simply keep it on. Even if checked, no one should notice anything odd about it. It's simply a necklace."

After she nodded, he guided her out and up to his rooms. "So," he said once she was seated, "how did it go? Good?"

"I think it went just fine. But do you want the others here first?" She removed the necklace temporarily and set it on the table.

"Now that you've confirmed my suspicions, yes, but I would have called them either way." A snap brought Maer to the room. "Maer, if you would please, could you ask Severus, Remus, and Draco to come here?"

"Of course, master." Maer popped out a second later.

While they were waiting he asked, "Would you object to sharing your memory of the event? That way we could all see and make our own interpretations."

"No, that's all right. I assume you have a pensieve." She glanced around the room, then let her gaze settle back on him.

Brand rose and moved to one of the cupboards, returning shortly thereafter with one of the devices, which he placed on the table. "You're okay, though."

Hermione looked slightly confused, but answered anyway. "Of course. It was just lunch, though it did run long. Is there something wrong?"

Brand shrugged and shifted. "Well, I was worried about Moony, too, when he wanted to go talk to the twins. I was worried that they might hurt him. But I was able to go with him. I know you can take care of yourself, but still."

She started to speak, stopped, and rolled her eyes. "Brand. I really need to get used to that. Brand, that's very sweet of you. You know, this is getting to be a very strange family."

He gave her a startled look, then laughed. A knock sounded so he waved his hand at the door, opening it, then smiled as Remus and Severus arrived. "No Draco?"

"Lucius dropped by, so he might be delayed for a few minutes," Severus explained.

"Oh." Brand pursed his lips. "Don't suppose you know if it was about, er. . . ."

Severus arched a brow and nodded slightly as Remus clasped his hands under his chin and cooed.

Brand shot his godfather a dark look. "Good news?"

"Actually, Brand, it's as good as your own, surprisingly enough."

Hermione cleared her throat loudly and crossed her arms.

"Sorry. We're, er, talking about. . . ." Brand worried his lower lip between his teeth.

"Babies!" squealed Remus.

Brand coughed. "Perhaps we can discuss this later," he said firmly, knowing full well that Hermione would not rest until she had the details—all of them.

Draco chose to breeze in that point with a faint smirk. "Hello, everyone. I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long."

"Perfect timing! Now that you're here we can get started, I hope."

-----

_Hermione breezed into the shop, pausing only momentarily once inside to wait in annoyance for the  
feathers she had sprouted to shed, then walked up to the twins. "Nice. I suppose for most people,  
that sort of greeting would be welcome."_

_The twins smirked. "It's always a good thing to lighten your day," Fred said cheerfully as George  
gestured toward the back room. "How about that lunch, then? We hope you don't mind, but we  
invited Tonks as well."_

_Hermione nodded as George went to lock the front door and flip the sign. "I don't mind, though I'm  
not sure how exciting it will be for her to hear about my new job."_

_Fred cast her a slightly shifty look before he headed for the back room, one that Hermione did not  
appear to have noticed. Once inside Fred began to produce food for all of them, with George to help  
him when he arrived and had shut the door._

"I know some of this is boring," Hermione said as her memory self exchanged greetings with Tonks and everyone settled down to eat, "but I figured it was best to start at the beginning."

"And who can resist seeing you as a canary?" Brand quipped, edging away from her quickly.

_"So, wow, a job at the ministry," Tonks said with somewhat overdone enthusiasm. "I bet you're  
feeling really excited!"_

_"Oh, yes! Perhaps now I can actually get somewhere on house elf rights," Hermione replied in a  
stereotypical fashion._

_Meaningless chatter occupied a good half of lunch before someone finally decided to be brave, that  
person being George. "Hermione, we were wondering when you first met Brand."_

_She looked up and tilted her head consideringly. "I don't know, a while back. Remus introduced us,  
as I said before." A moment later, after having received blank looks she said, "I know what you lot  
must think of me, but it isn't as though even I can recall the precise moment."_

Brand snickered loudly.

_"Right, Remus," said Fred. "Where was that?"_

_Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly. "At his house, where else?"_

"Oh, nice one. Technically, the manor is my home." Remus saluted Hermione impishly.

_"You've visited him?"_

_She blinked, then nodded. "Why wouldn't I? I've looked up to him since third year. Is there some  
particular reason you're asking?"_

_The three cohorts exchanged looks, then Tonks said, "What do you think of Dumbledore? Do you  
have faith that he's leading our side in the right direction?"_

"Oh yes, that was the height of subtlety," commented Draco.

_Hermione gave her a long look, then said, "I, or anyone else, would have to be willfully blind to  
accept a person's leadership on total faith. You know me. If it can be researched or approached from  
another angle, I will. Many things changed after Harry died. I still don't understand how we could  
have been captured. I mean, shouldn't there have been people on duty when Harry was outside the  
castle? I didn't question it then, but I'm no longer the child I was. Having said that, why don't you all  
tell me what's really going on here? Forgive me for saying so, but either I'm excessively paranoid of  
late, or you three have an ulterior motive."_

_Another round of looks was exchanged. "All right," said George. "We have reason to believe that  
Dumbledore isn't as, er, saintly as he appears to be. We've recently come to question quite a lot  
about him."_

_"Then I would have to assume you either overheard something or have some kind of evidence to  
make you feel that way," she said reasonably._

_Fred reached under the table to retrieve a parchment and a book, then handed them over. Some  
time later Hermione looked up with a faintly disgusted expression and nodded. "I see. Then my own  
suspicions are not unfounded if these are to be believed. Of course, I can't see that Remus would lie  
in his own journal, so this is either the truth, or a delusion based on his own warped perceptions  
through grief. The parchment, though, is most likely accurate. I cannot conceive of a reason for  
Voldemort to be so openly condescending and amused otherwise. Truth is a very powerful weapon if  
wielded wisely. However, if the letter is true, it supports the veracity of the journal. The logical  
conclusion is that Dumbledore isn't to be trusted with the life of anyone except himself."_

_"That's sort of the conclusion we reached," Tonks offered. "But we aren't sure what to do."_

_"Given that you still have these, I assume you didn't show them to the headmaster?" she asked. "Or  
are these copies?"_

_Tonks shook her head. "We found them the day Remus disappeared. Or maybe the day after, I'm not  
sure. He'd invited us over to talk about something, perhaps what we found in the journal, but when  
we arrived he wasn't there and it looked as though he'd been interrogated. The letter and journal  
were in plain sight."_

_"We thought," said George, "that out of everyone, you might be open to analyzing the situation  
before making a decision or running off half cocked."_

_"What, like Ron?" Hermione inquired archly, then shook her head. "Never mind, that wasn't a nice  
thing to say."_

_"But true," said Fred. "Ron may be our brother, but that doesn't mean we can't see his nature."_

_Hermione shook her head again. "This isn't about Ron."_

_"Getting back to Brand. . . . You said he doesn't trust Dumbledore. Do you think he can be trusted?"_

_Hermione smiled without reserve. "Mm, yes, I do."_

_"On what basis?"_

_"Well, from what I've seen he's the type to remain silent rather than lie, though I know he would lie  
if the situation absolutely called for it—rather like you not reporting these documents to  
Dumbledore, I'd say. He's quite open and truthful. If he doesn't want to answer something, he  
doesn't, though."_

_"You honestly think he had nothing to do with Remus's disappearance?"_

_Hermione smiled again. "Do you think Remus would have introduced me to someone on the wrong  
side? Someone who would have gained his trust only to capture or kill him? I don't believe that, not  
for a moment."_

"Well, technically, you did come willingly," said Brand to Remus, "and I wasn't the one who captured you originally."

Hermione smiled smugly.

_"Okay," said Tonks, "and have you ever even seen Brand outside of Remus's home or here at the  
shop?"_

_"Of course. I've been to his house and had dinner, actually. Rather a lot of his family was there as  
well. It was all very interesting and stimulating. Such a pleasure to find bright minds to have  
discourse with."_

_She paused, looked at them each, then said, "If you're_ that _interested, I can always ask if he would  
invite you all to lunch or dinner one day. For the moment, though, I really need to get going. I have  
shopping to do. I don't have nearly enough of the right clothing for my new job."_

_"That might be nice. We'll get back to you on that."_

-----

When they emerged Brand was filled with amusement. "You did a wonderful job of being honest without telling the whole truth, sis."

"Well," she said modestly, "I tried to think of how _you_ might answer."

He chuckled and gave her a swift hug, then dropped onto the couch. "Then hopefully they'll express interest in coming here."

"About that. . . . Is it wise? I mean, do you think your floo address would sound suspicious?" she asked. "And a portkey would be problematic, since they're supposed to be ministry approved."

Severus shook his head. "Should they inquire, simply tell them that Brand is quite enamored of potions. As ashwinders lay eggs of use in them, it should suffice long enough to get them here."

"Yes, quite enamored, so long as it's not me making them," Brand drawled.

"To the relief of all," Severus rejoined with a smirk.

"Oh, hush." To everyone he said, "Now, if they do agree to come, I shan't be able to use glamours to hide their appearances en route to the dining room, so I'll have to order that section cleared for a bit. It wasn't so much of a problem with you, sis, because I hid you almost the second you arrived."

"There are no other floo-enabled fireplaces on the estate? In order to clear the area, you'd have to tell every single person not to apparate or floo in during that period," objected Remus.

"Er, okay. That's a good point. I know father has one in his public study, but that's quite a ways from either the dining room or here. It isn't as though we could use his study on this floor since I can't alter the wards for them without them being here, so they could never come through that way."

"Yes, but it would be easier to clear a path from the downstairs study than to cut off all access to the travel room. And even that would be easier than having them arrive at the front door and clearing a path from there," said Draco.

"I'll just have to ask father's permission to use his study briefly. I'm sure we can work something out as far as—"

"That's great," interrupted Hermione, "and as fascinating as this surely is, I think you really ought to move on to explaining about . . . babies?"

-----

In the end they had decided to have their little meeting in Brand's rooms. He had already locked up the outside entrance to Draco's rooms, and his mate, Severus, and Remus were waiting there. Hermione was already seated when Brand arrived with the trio—he had paused to point out some of the architecture as he surreptitiously adjusted the wards for them—but rose immediately to greet them as Brand locked and warded the door.

"Very nice place you have, Brand," commented Fred as he looked around the sitting room.

"Thank you. Please make yourselves comfortable while I invite in the others who will be joining us."

"Your family?"

Brand smiled and crossed to the door to Draco's suite, then knocked once softly and returned to settle on the couch as the door opened. "I think you know everyone," he said mildly as startled gasps emerged from the trio.

"Remus!"

Hermione leaned over across the arm of her chair and whispered, "Are you going to ghost them this time?"

He gave a tiny nod, then smirked as Severus and Draco emerged into the room, causing more expressions of surprise.

"I don't understand," said Tonks, glancing at Draco, then back at Remus. "Why—?"

Remus gestured toward the available seating. "That's very simple. And by the way, glad to see you all again. As you can see, I'm very much alive. Sorry for the subterfuge, and the grief I caused you all, but it was necessary. Had you reacted differently than you did, this meeting would not have happened. If you'd given those documents to Albus, I would have stayed dead. Since you didn't, and you indicated to Hermione that you were willing to see another viewpoint, well . . . here you are."

Three expressions of suspicion set in.

"I told you Brand didn't trust Dumbledore," Hermione pointed out. "I just didn't admit I knew why."

"You lied to us?"

"Of course I did. If any of you three were as blind as I used to be, why would I help you out with information like that and risk you telling the headmaster?" she countered. "You might be interested to know that Moody was the headmaster's executioner. Remus would have been dead if he'd done as the headmaster asked, by his order."

"Who the hell are you?" demanded George of Brand.

"Gosh, do you lot have strong hearts? I'm not sure I should say," he said coyly. "As it happens, my name is Brand Riddle, if that means anything to you. Yes, that Riddle. Lord Voldemort is my father. And before you all go crazy and start shooting off hexes, I suggest you sit back down and listen. You already have good reason to distrust Dumbledore. We intend to convince you."

Surprisingly, or not, it was the twins who took seats first, to either side of Remus. "If Hermione is in on this, there has to be something worth listening to," they declared.

"Splendid! Now, if you would like to be seated, Tonks?" Brand nodded at the remaining chair and smiled. "And after we've all become smashingly good friends, perhaps we can have that dinner I promised."

He was really quite pleased that Hermione's reputation was serving them so well. Once Tonks had seated herself he said, "Then let us begin."

Remus went first, but only after he had enjoined the three to assure themselves of his identity, as well as everyone else's. While the others were talking Brand kept a mental eye on the thoughts of the three, making sure that they weren't planning any heroics, and to see what they really thought of what they were hearing. Pensieves were summoned as necessary as well.

All in all, it went much like it had with Hermione, minus the veritaserum. However, as they were already disposed to distrust the mighty Dumbledore, it went much more smoothly. Smoothly enough that Brand was willing to remove the wards on his door as quietly as he had placed them.

They continued to talk through dinner and even after, right up until Hermione gave him a very pointed look and crossed her arms over her chest. Brand gave a slight sigh and reached for a pensieve, then paused. "I suppose," he said slowly, "that I should come clean. It's not like I'd ever get any peace if I didn't. But before I do that, are you all in agreement?"

Fred, George, and Tonks looked bewildered. Everyone else, aside from Hermione, considered, then nodded. "So be it." Brand dropped several memories into the pensieve and placed it back on the table. "You three might be extremely interested in these."

He was saying, "You know, sis, you can be downright pushy at times," as they emerged, and the comment went almost unnoticed in light of their new knowledge. The second one of them opened their mouth to speak he held up a quelling hand. "Don't. Don't call me that." He lowered his hand and continued, "Now, you know the whole truth. And no matter what happens from this point, there is something I must do."

"It won't hurt," piped in Hermione helpfully.

Brand glanced at her and smiled affectionately, then swiftly set coercions on all three of them, tailored to not only prevent them from referring to him by his birth name, but also to block off access to the entire evening. Whether he protected their minds with permission or not was a different matter.

"So, what'll it be?" he prompted.

"What happens if we said this was a mistake?" asked Tonks.

"Then I obliviate you lot and send you home believing we had a mournful discussion about Remus. End of story. You're left wondering about what happened to him, who I really am, and so forth. I hope you realize even if you were to disagree with what I've done that I would not hurt you."

"And if we agreed that your way is better?"

Brand shrugged. "That's up to you to a large degree. Obviously, Remus made his own choice, as did Hermione, but he can't be seen in public. The old man already tried once to have him killed."

"I plan on being a teacher," Remus said quietly. "You, Tonks, would be at risk most being in the Order, but less so than Severus is. I'm not saying you'd have to turn spy or anything, mind you." As an afterthought he pushed back his sleeves. "As you can see, it's not like I was marked or anything."

"Yes, all right, but—" Tonks paused and frowned. "I suppose that doesn't matter either if Remus and Hermione are both here."

"What, blood issues? Hardly. And as far as Dark Marks go, I expect that will have little meaning after a while. At the moment it's still extremely convenient for signaling our people. I'd have to ask father about it, though, to see if they'll be removed once we've furthered our goals to a certain point."

Fred turned to Hermione and said, "Sis?"

She laughed and looked at Brand. "May I?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you must."

She grinned and pulled over a pensieve to drop a memory into it. "Some of this is embarrassing, I admit, but it'll explain in a far more interesting fashion than I could otherwise. It's when I first came here for dinner." She pushed the device toward them.

All three were grinning when they came back, at her, Brand, and Draco. Fred looked at George, then said, "Could we three have a few minutes alone to discuss this?"

"Sure," Brand agreed. "Through that door, if you will. We'll be waiting right here." Once they had shuffled into Draco's suite he said quietly, "I didn't see a damn thing that would make me believe they'd turn against us. I expect them to come back out and agree that even if they don't agree with everything I and father represent that Dumbledore is not to be trusted. So, completely neutral at worst, and that's not a very bad worst."

"I tend to agree," said Draco, "and I was going on body language. It doesn't help Dumbledore's case that he's unwilling to see their actual talents. But then, I've already said that, haven't I."

Brand made a face at him.

"And protection?" asked Severus, ever the paranoiac.

"Once they come back out. They're not getting away from here without it whether they be neutral or supporters."

A second later the door opened and the trio came back in. "Snape," said Tonks, "I think I should tell you that Albus is getting suspicious of you. You knew nothing of Moody's disappearance, or Remus's. He's beginning to think that either Voldemort knows you're a traitor, or you're deliberately holding back."

Severus scowled and stood up to begin pacing.

"Then we'll simply have to take care of that," said Draco with a meaningful look at Brand.

"Yes," he said thoughtfully. "I need to tell father, though." He pinned the trio with a look and said, "Well?"

"We're in, but not as marked supporters."

"That's fine. Excellent, in fact." Brand snapped and ordered another round of drinks when Maer appeared, then said, "In that case, let us proceed with the protection of your minds."

"Didn't you already?"

"Only part way. What I did before protects this evening, but that won't suffice in the long run. I need to make sure none of you can spill any secrets, either willingly or against your will."

"This doesn't hurt either," provided Hermione.

"How did you know we wouldn't just portkey away once we were in the other room?" asked Fred.

Brand smirked. "Because I made very sure you couldn't before you came this evening, nor apparate, nor use the hallway door. Now, about that protection. . . ."

-----

_:Father?:_

_:Yes, son.:_

_:Would you like to come to my rooms? We have a slight problem.:_


	22. Solutions & Problems

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues. (Thanks go out to Webweaver for reminding me of something, and presenting an excellent idea for me to play with.)

* * *

**— 22: Solutions & Problems —**

* * *

Voldemort swept in after a brief knock of politeness, closing the door behind him with a wave of his hand as he moved forward to take a seat in the chair vacated by Severus. "Good evening, everyone. What seems to be the problem, Brand?"

"According to Tonks, the old man is getting suspicious of Severus. Apparently we were mistaken when we thought the status quo would suffice. Not being able to provide information about either Moody or Remus is working against him. I'm worried that the old man will try to have him taken out."

Voldemort nodded and turned his attention to Severus. "What are your thoughts on this?"

"I think it might be time for me to die, my lord," Severus said, ignoring the gasps from the newcomers to continue, "Lord Brand has already broached the subject with me as you know, and I think with careful consideration that we can come up with a plan to forward one of our heretofore unworkable ideas at the same time."

"Ah, yes, that one. Very well, Severus. But, which would you prefer? That the old man believes you died because you were found out, or because it was an act of a desperate man?"

"My lord, I think I would prefer to die a martyr. Either way, I would need time to clear out anything of value from my home and bring it here before proceeding. I have already established a new vault under an alias and managed to do quite a bit of creative maneuvering with my finances."

"As you wish, though I am certainly willing to compensate you for the loss of your name and position, Severus."

"I am grateful, my lord."

"As soon as you give me the details of your new identity I will make sure our people in the ministry insert the appropriate records to support it. Any ideas, then?"

Brand said first, "Tonks, twins, we're talking about the destruction of where Sirius grew up. After all, he hated the place. I'm quite sure he wouldn't mind."

"What of the innocents in the surrounding area?" asked Hermione. "If whatever you come up with isn't limited strictly to that place. . . ."

"Well, it is true that if Severus wants to die as a so-called good guy, it makes things more difficult," said Remus. "There has to be a way that civilians, so to speak, could be evacuated prior to anything we did. And, if I may point out, we don't have to use magic directly. Isn't it true that the ministry encourages muggles to think that it was always a mundane problem? Anarchists, problems with the sewers, and so on?"

"I can think of two things immediately." Everyone turned their gaze on Hermione. "A leak from one of the gas mains, or a blackout. That would force muggle authorities to call for an evacuation of the area, especially for the former, but the latter would mean it would be unlikely that workers were in the immediate area to get in the way."

"True, but workers could be dealt with fairly easily. It is August, though, so there's a good chance people would voluntarily leave due to lack of relief from the heat. Even so, with either idea, I have to point out that some people would categorically refuse to evacuate. It's a fairly old neighborhood, as well, and for all we know, some people have generators, or even gas masks left over from World War II."

"If we only take out the one residence, then I would say a blackout," said Voldemort. "However, to do it that way would mean Dumbledore would know it was more than coincidence, as very few people can enter. With a leak, we could conceivably blow up part of the area and take the building out at the same time."

"And destroy all those people's homes, sir?" Hermione objected. "Their belongings? Yes, most would likely have insurance, but . . . some things just can't be replaced."

"Including lives, Miss Granger, but I see your point," he replied pensively.

"Speaking of which, whatever happened to my cloak?" Brand asked. "And Hedwig? I know it says some horrible things about me that I'm only now asking, but. . . ."

"The, er, Order uses it," supplied Tonks. "But, I think it could be conveniently lost on a mission if you could arrange something."

"Ginny has Hedwig," said George. "Everyone seemed to have the idea she ought to, for reasons which I find vastly amusing at this point."

Brand sighed and tipped his head back. "All right. I guess as long as she's being treated well. Photo album?"

"I'm sorry, Brand, but I have that. I forgot. I'll make sure you get it as soon as I can figure out which box it's in," Remus said in embarrassment.

"Father, there seems to be two issues here. How Severus dies, and the other plan. The first is as easy as leaving a seeming body in his manor with another of those delightfully nasty notes, but that doesn't help with the house. I very much doubt Severus is any more susceptible to the imperius curse than I am, and even if he was, it would be pointless as no one would be there to witness his supposed destruction of the building to report back to the old man. He could show up looking like he's at death's door and implore whoever was there to get Dumbledore, then conveniently die in the meantime, but again, it would look odd if the building went up when he was supposedly alone."

"The location isn't really that big of a deal," Fred said. "All anyone would have to do is follow Order members around and wait until they start seeing them disappear into thin air with no signs of apparation or spell casting, right? Now, if you were to do something _really_ sneaky like purchase the properties surrounding it. . . . Well, you could actually blow the place up without any loss of life, and have Snape's body appear at his manor with that note you mentioned."

Brand blinked, then grinned.

"Very interesting, Mr Weasley. I think with some discreet investigation and a generous application of wealth that your idea could work nicely."

"Thank you, sir."

"I agree. It's certainly possible that we've been spying on the area for some time, and this would fit in with our current tactics, father."

"Then that is what we will do. Severus, I'm sure you can write another of those delightfully nasty notes, as Brand puts it, for me to look over. You will let me know once you've retrieved what you need from your manor. Brand, I want you to talk with Remus about muggle housing issues as he owned one himself, and see about the purchase of those properties. Since we can communicate directly, you can negotiate with me aware of the process. Just make sure that you check on trends in the area and such, though stubborn people would require more incentive.

"We need to move quickly on these issues as we are almost into the new school year. Frankly, I would like to put Dumbledore into the position of having to scramble to find a replacement for Severus, and I don't think he would wait very long before finding a way to arrange your death anyway, or a trip to Azkaban. He may have waited with Remus, but I do not want to take the risk that he will hesitate a second time. The destruction of the house isn't quite as urgent."

Voldemort paused, then turned his gaze on the twins. "I realize that you two are primarily tricksters, but I'm quite sure after all that I've heard that you can be a great deal more than that. Even if you cannot actually do something you suggest, the more individual and unique viewpoints we have, the more of a possibility we can devise a way to do something. After all, you saw something none of us had considered and it should have been obvious."

He turned to Tonks and said, "I will not demand that you return Order information to us, but if you would be so kind, that would be of great assistance. As it is, no one seems to have access to Dumbledore's plans. Not even Moody did, so whatever you can pass on. . . ." Voldemort shrugged slightly.

"Sir, what about our identities?" asked George.

"That is up to you. If you would prefer to remain under an alias while here that can be arranged. Brand has devised and tested a method by which a person can be disguised automatically on arrival at this estate. If you would prefer that, you would be introduced by whatever names you wished, as necessary."

"It works wonderfully," said Hermione, then demonstrated by getting her necklace. "I don't have to wear it properly for it to work as you can see, and if I'm off the estate I look like myself."

"Let Brand know your decision. I have some things to do before I retire, so I'll take my leave," he said as he rose. "Good evening, everyone. Son, please meet me for breakfast." Then he departed.

"Wow," said Tonks. "He was so . . . nice."

"I'll be sure to tell father you thought so," Brand said playfully. "Just a note in case you aren't entirely sure. Whenever father is around, be polite and call him sir. He'd be furious at the lack of respect otherwise, especially if there are others around. Generally speaking, I'm called my lord or Lord Brand, but it really depends on who you are. Moony can get away with calling me Brand simply because I've named him my godfather, but. . . . Well, let's just say that you should probably say sir around others lest people start getting suspicious as to who I really am. The only people who know are father, obviously, and those in this room."

"And the Death Eaters think he found you under a cabbage leaf?" asked George.

Brand snickered. "The point is, father doesn't punish people without a reason, and a lack of respect is one of those things. Look at it this way. You might not like have liked Fudge, but to his face you would have called him sir or minister, right? In any case, Death Eaters can wonder all they like about where I came from, but their curiosity won't be satisfied. It might not undermine father's authority seeing as how it would be considered quite a coup, but he knows I really don't want that kind of attention."

"Yes, yes, we get the point. We'll be all proper and such." Fred flapped his hand dismissively. "I think that we—"

"—should go by aliases," finished George as Fred nodded.

"If you do that during meetings, everyone will know who you are," said Brand with a smirk. "You need to tell me what you want for a key, so to speak, or provide something, and some kind of description for your fake appearances." He gave them a steady look and added, "Not twins."

They sighed dramatically. "You think that would be too obvious?" teased Fred. "Seriously, though, that's fine. I guess it doesn't really matter what it is, so long as it can be easily hidden. It wouldn't take much to figure things out if Forge and I were walking around outside with custom work cloak pins that people would recognize."

"Obviously," said Brand dryly. "Might I suggest a navel piercing?"

George gasped in mock horror and said, "And defile our perfect bodies? Never!"

"Besides, mum would go spare if she ever saw them. You know how she gets over Bill."

"Mm. Well, I doubt you two are the type for anklets. So, armbands, neck chains. . . ."

The twins exchanged a mischievous look. "Actually, we each wear a toe band. You could use those. I sincerely doubt we'd walk around here barefoot any time soon."

Brand wrinkled his nose consideringly. "They're not magical in any way?"

"Nope. Bought them in a muggle shop."

"That sounds fine, then. You'll have to give them up for at least a day. It takes me a little while to get the wards to recognize something and provide the glamour in response. Until I know they're functioning properly you'll have to floo in via father's study, but after that, and you've been introduced, I can show you the travel room."

He turned to Tonks and said, "You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm sorry, I think I'm still surprised at how nice he was. It's just so . . . strange." She shook her head as though clearing it. "Disguise, please, but I can handle that aspect myself. Still, if it's a glamour, couldn't anyone here spell past it?"

Brand shook his head lazily. "The estate wards are quite peculiar. I suppose the easiest way to explain it would be to say that glamours are automatically canceled when someone enters it's boundaries, so what I'm doing is keying in very specific exceptions. No one ever checks for them, since it's well known and tested that glamours can't be used here."

He paused, then said, "Well, that's not entirely accurate. Father and I can get past that since we control the wards, but no one else. If someone did try to check, nothing would happen because the wards hold control of the glamour, such as I've already arranged for Hermione. Now, if someone who didn't know how to get here got hold of one of the items, it would be pretty useless except as jewelry, and if they altered the item in any way, it would be totally useless. On the other hand, it has the drawback that each item would work for anyone who had it on them. I could bond them to you, but then they'd be obviously magical and I'm not sure I want that."

"All right. Then how do you know if people are trying to sneak into the estate, like Remus?"

"Two things. The wards do alert security if someone unmarked enters the boundaries. Border patrols are messaged and they investigate, which is how Remus was caught originally. The travel room, however, is handled a bit differently, since that's how most people arrive, and often that includes children and other unmarked people, such as spouses. There are guards watching that room constantly. If the people entering are known, like Remus, they're ignored. I've had to bypass that briefly when Hermione has come in."

"Polyjuice?"

Brand grinned. "That, actually, was a fairly recent change. Once Moony explained how the Marauder's Map worked, we set the guard room up with a very specific version of one. Prior to that, well . . . I believe they used identity spells before the door was released. On a related note, since you three floo'd in using father's study, the guards were alerted, but had no idea who you were. And since I had already told them to expect three unknowns, they did not send anyone to investigate on my word and order."

Fred and George grinned, but Tonks looked confused. "Map?"

Remus started to rise, but Brand waved him back down and forced his own map into the visible spectrum for everyone else. "This kind of map, except the one the Marauders made was on parchment. As you can see, this shows everyone at Hogwarts, though my version can do a few tricks."

Once the twins finished babbling Brand added, "Obviously, I'm going to have to do something about the one the guards use. The map doesn't lie, but we can force it to make exceptions as well, or fool it. Otherwise, father might start to get annoyed if we take over his public study for floo purposes and keep annoying the guards with requests to stand down. Though"—he furrowed his brow—"I think I can make the wards see the items as akin to a Dark Mark so the guards wouldn't get pinged. But that wouldn't solve the problem of a bored guard watching the map they have and spotting something they shouldn't. It's bad enough I've already forced the guards several times to turn a blind eye to a certain arrival and departure. I expect they're damn curious at this point."

Remus cleared his throat. "I don't think tweaking the map will be all that difficult, but you have to remember that if we four could make one back at sixteen or seventeen, anyone could figure it out and make their own. There's still going to be the chance that secret identities could be revealed."

Brand sighed and nodded. "It's so like you to complicate things further. Well, all right. I'll simply have to ask permission for you lot to use a different floo or to set up a restricted travel room. Either way, you'll still need to wear something, Tonks, simply for that purpose."

"I know we opted for disguises, but if people's minds are protected, why bother?" asked George.

Draco let out a groan and covered his eyes.

"Because despite the fact that 99.9% of father's people are fully on board, there's always the odd one out who throws a wrench into the works. About a year after I was presented as father's heir I ran across one such twit at a social gathering here. He was quite happily telling a rather nervous chap all about how I was, er, revolting for being homosexual. In my hearing, that is. Silly fool didn't even realize I was standing behind him," Brand explained.

"He's dead, isn't he," stated Fred.

Brand gave a curt nod. "The fact that Hermione is a muggleborn might cause another one like that to rise up and become a nuisance. It is true that no one has openly questioned the fact that Remus is here, though."

"And when was the last time you did any ghosting?" asked Severus.

"I try to do so once a week, often more frequently, but it does get tiring. Sometimes I get so sick of all this. I hate being dishonest, but I can't let any of you get hurt, either, and I can't go killing everyone who disagrees with unity despite origin. Why the hell people have to be so damned bigoted—!"

Draco sat up quickly and said, "Brand, I think it might be nice if you went and drew a bath for yourself. I'm quite sure one of us can answer any remaining questions in your stead." He placed a soothing hand on Brand's knee and tilted his head.

Brand leveled a narrow look at him in response, then stood and moved to his bedroom door. "You're probably right. I trust all four of you with this, though I would prefer you joined me, Draco. Fred, George, even if you can't decide on an appearance tonight, don't worry. I can visit you at the shop. I'm really glad you all came, and that you understand and are with me, but I am feeling rather poorly at the moment. If you'd like to stay the night, Remus or Severus can make arrangements and explain about this floor. Good night." He turned and stepped through without waiting for any kind of a response.

As Draco stepped through behind him he heard a hushed, "What the hell was that all about?" Then Draco closed the door and dragged him off toward the bathroom.

-----

"Now tell me, son, why was I sensing such odd things last night?" Voldemort asked as Brand took a seat.

He bit his lip and sighed. "I just got a little frustrated. One of the twins asked why the need for disguises and it set me off a bit. Not at them, but at the need for it at all. I suppose possibly also because I was tired from setting up the protections. Draco, in his infinite wisdom, practically pushed me into the bedroom at that point, probably afraid I'd do something silly. That's on top of all the hijinks I'm going to have to do to keep their identities a secret in the first place. I can't very well keep ordering the guards to look the other way when one of them needs to visit."

"And your solution?"

"Several things. I can alter the wards to see those disguise items as Dark Marks so the guards aren't alerted. I'll also add certain exceptions to the travel room map, but that can be gotten around if people make a new copy. Now, those items could be a huge liability if someone else got their hands on one, so I think it's best if they always enter the estate using your public study or for me to create a restricted travel room."

After taking a deep breath he continued, "The problem with your study is that it would inconvenience you, and we'd have to leave it open, which isn't such a thrilling idea, even though it's normally password-protected."

"I must say I agree with that assessment. You have permission to set up a restricted travel room, but I expect that one of you will always keep an eye on it, the location is protected by coercion or other means, and whatever else you can think of. If it's on the third floor, that's fine, just preferably not near my rooms."

"Of course, father, and thank you." Brand abandoned his breakfast and moved to kneel by his father. "I feel kind of bad, actually. I haven't spent much time with you lately. I feel like I've been neglecting you."

Voldemort shifted and smiled fondly, reaching out to run his fingers through Brand's hair. "Perhaps we should set up a regular time for us, then. I admit, I miss our time together. That is, time _not_ spent on making decisions and having meetings."

"It's just, family is so important, and now there are so many of you, and. . . ."

"I understand, son," Voldemort said gently, "and I know it must be difficult with so many choices where once you had none."

Brand dropped his head onto his father's leg and mumbled, "I'm sorry," even as he knew his father would probably roll his eyes in response. Still, he really did feel rather wretched about being torn in several directions at times.

He heard a soft chuckle, then, "I can see why Draco urged you out of the room last night. I think he's good for you. You chose wisely."

Brand lifted his head and aimed a faintly sheepish look at his father. "Yes. He's quite good, especially at forcing me to see certain things, and in making sure I don't act stupidly."

"Not that you were especially prone to it to begin with after you came here, but I would still agree. Brand, if you keep this up, I'm going to think I need to cuddle you on my lap before you'll continue eating," Voldemort teased.

Brand jerked back and grimaced, though secretly the idea didn't entirely repulse him. It might be rather interesting, at that, and most likely an entirely different feeling from cuddling with Draco. "Perhaps, father. After all, it's not like I was ever able to when I was younger. But you're right, I am hungry." He stuck out his tongue childishly and stood, then reclaimed his seat and his silverware.

Voldemort smirked insolently. "So, what's the latest gossip on our two moths?"

Brand laughed softly and said, "Moths, huh? More like hedgehogs, I'd say. I'm fairly certain Remus is interested, but it's so hard to tell with Severus. He's really lightened up, though, and seems to spend quite a bit of time in his company. I think he's even more clueless than I usually am, and that's saying a lot."

-----

"No, they were told that you would have to be the one to explain in detail if you chose to. None of them felt it was right to reveal without your permission that you specifically killed that man."

Brand nodded. "All right. Did they spend the night?"

"Yes, but they've already gone. The twins left their rings behind, and Tonks said she'd provide something shortly. Hermione will be an issue with the wards until you can handle it, though. Now, are you feeling better? You'd already left by the time I awoke."

"I'm sorry, but you were sleeping quite peacefully, so I didn't wake you when I went to have breakfast with father. He cheered me up quite nicely. Father has also begun arranging for a golem to serve as Sev's corpse, so that's on track. As soon as he's ready and that note is approved, we can move ahead."

"Wonderful. And, as most of the students are leaving today, perhaps we can take a break from all this scheming and work and enjoy the day outside?"

Brand wrinkled his nose, though not because he was adverse to the idea. "I'm going to feel guilty if I don't spend some time talking with Remus regarding a crash course on real estate. Maybe we could invite him outside for a chat for at least a bit? I promise that tomorrow you'll have me all to yourself if you like. But Monday we have to deal with the contact—"

"Oh dear."

"Yes, that rather sums it up, doesn't it. They aren't going to be very useful with no one to report to." Brand flopped onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. "Someone please stop the world, I'd like to get off this ride for a while."

"Is this another one of those muggle things?" Draco asked in a suspicious voice.

"Something like that. Well, there's not much hope for it. It's too late for anyone to be trained to take Sev's place and have a hope of being the one hired in his place. They're simply going to have to write letters to their parents in code. Hang on."

_:Father?:_

_:Brand?:_

_:If Severus isn't at the school, the contacts have no one to report to.: _He was quite sure his weary tone came through clearly._ :Letters in code to their parents?:_

_:It would be less suspicious. I will speak to their parents, you deal with the contacts. Unfortunately, I do not have a spare Potions Master hidden up my voluminous sleeves. Now, go enjoy your day.:_

_:Yes, father.:_

Brand rolled his eyes slightly and grabbed Draco by the hand. "Let's go bug Remus."

"All right, but are we making wagers on how long before Severus just happens to stumble over us unexpectedly?"


	23. Take Down

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues. (Slight, teeny-tiny spoiler from HBP used in this chapter.)

* * *

**— 23: Take Down —**

* * *

"My lord, what happens if someone were to cast an identity spell on, say, a disguised twin?" Draco asked softly as they were emerging into the gardens.

Brand chuckled. "Something annoying, actually. They'd get back a response that essentially said, 'Lord Brand's Private Guard.'"

Draco snickered and nodded. "Just wondering, my lord."

"When I sat down to consider the issue of disguising sis, I asked myself all the questions I could think of, ways that people could get past it. It was only the map I hadn't bothered with yet. But, if you think of other things, I know you'll mention them."

"Of course, my lord."

Brand headed toward his favorite spot and flung himself down onto the springy moss. Draco immediately sat down with his back against the tree and patted his lap invitingly, so Brand moved so his head was resting on its new pillow, then snapped his fingers.

"Maer, would you be so kind as to request that Remus join us here, please?"

"Yes, master," said Maer, then popped away.

They stayed like that in tranquil silence, Draco running his fingers through Brand's hair, until Remus strolled in and folded himself down a seated position on the moss, taking care to stay in the shade cast by the massive oak. "Brand, Draco."

After making several peculiar gestures Brand launched into a lazy discussion of real estate, grimacing frequently when he realized how complicated it could be for a muggle to purchase a home, or a wizard in the muggle world.

"My first suggestion would be to take a walk through that area, disguised, to see if there are any signs up. It would give you an idea of what estate agents to speak with, but aside from that, walk into one in that area, or several, posing as a student doing research. You could get a very good idea of costs. After that, well, it's a matter of convincing people to sell, whether they've got their eye on a different home or not. And, I suppose once you do have them in your pocket, some of your people can start quietly tailing Order members, at least until one or two of them get the idea they're being followed."

"That might cause a problem," objected Draco. "If they're sure, or fairly sure, they're being followed, they might abandon the house. Part of the fun, I'd say, is destroying the place and having them scramble for a new one."

"I suppose so," said Remus mildly.

The next hour or so was spent discussing babies. The lady in the tower was due sometime in May of the next year, as was Narcissa. Brand supposed that more than one spell had been involved in order to assure such felicity so quickly. He also briefly pondered over what kind of a woman would willingly bear a child for an unknown man's benefit, then dismissed it from his mind. For all he knew she was an impoverished widow of good breeding, and with no family left to help support her.

Severus appeared not long after, causing Draco to convulse slightly in silent laughter. "Gentlemen," he said in greeting. "My lord, I had a question for you, if that's all right."

"Certainly, and we're warded. What's on your mind?" he asked lazily.

Severus nodded and said, "If Severus Snape is dead, are parents taking over as interim contacts?"

"Yes. They'll have to. Father has already said he'll speak with their parents. I need to talk to the children. They'll be here for another few days, though, so we'll just go over it on Monday."

Severus took a seat, carefully folding his legs and maintaining a rigidly straight back, as Remus said, "I'm glad you stopped by. I was curious to know if you spoke to Joshua this morning."

Severus arched a brow. "I have," he confirmed.

"I was hoping he would be pleased to know that you won't be returning to the castle."

"He is."

"That's great. Then perhaps I won't have to risk my sanity trying to teach him Potions, Severus," Remus said with a grin.

Severus shifted a little, a faint look of disdain crossing his face. "Agreed. I would be a far better person to instruct him on those matters, though I am sure you would do a superior job over, say"—he paused—"our dear Lord Brand." A second later he let out an undignified yelp and glared at Brand.

"You really need to ration that particular truth, Sev," Brand said lazily. "I can see I'm going to have to find something to needle you about just to even up the score. A stinging hex just isn't the same, don't you think?"

Severus snorted and lifted his chin. "Hardly a fair return."

"Yes, well, you know what they say about a battle of the wits with an unarmed opponent. I'll have to find some ammunition, I think." He smirked, then said, "Seriously, though. If Joshua is happy about this, that's good, and it means that you, Severus, can mellow a little, perhaps. For all I care, you can keep right on teaching Potions if that pleases you, here and when we relocate. You might even consider trying your hand at authoring a few textbooks under your new name."

Brand was not surprised when Severus became thoughtful at that and added, "You might also consider it, Moony. There's nothing wrong with making annotations to the texts you use and thinking about how you could write them better or more clearly."

Then he brightened up enough to laugh softly. "Severus."

"Yes?"

"Well, if you won't be returning to Hogwarts, I suppose I can tell you what I would not from before about the old man. Hopefully you'll think it's amusing. Remember how we've been talking about hurting the reputation of the Order and such? I wanted to hurt the old man, preferably badly, before I kill him, so. . . ."

Severus's reaction was to smirk nastily, but rather than commenting on the idea he turned to Remus after a minute and said, "I was hoping you might consider doing me a favor."

Remus in turn quirked up one brow in a show of interest.

"Considering that some of us here have a rather odd sense of humor, perhaps you would be willing to do a bit of creative artwork on the next full moon."

Remus furrowed his brow in thought, and even Brand was having trouble following what Severus was getting at. Suddenly Remus brightened and smiled. "Are you sure? That is a bit of a sore spot, understandably."

"Indeed. However, in this instance I think it would be . . . sadistically ironic. We have intimated that you might be used as a weapon of sorts, so why not for this particular playlet?"

Brand cleared his throat and stared. "Would either of you like to clue me in?"

"It's very simple," Remus said. "Back in the day, you know that Severus was almost killed by me through no fault of my own. So, if it were true that Lord Voldemort were to cotton on to the fact that Severus is a traitor. . . ."

"What better way to kill him than to make him relive one of his worst moments," said Draco.

Severus nodded. "You could maul the golem. We leave that at my manor along with another note. I would need to stay on the estate as soon as I've finished clearing out my valuables, but it goes almost without saying that most of what resides there can be replaced, and it should not appear too suspicious that certain things are missing, if they even knew what to look for."

Draco shrugged and said, "I would like to think our lord would take anything that might be of use to him."

"Are you really okay with this?" Brand asked Severus. "I know, you're the one suggesting it, but. . . ."

"It's the past," Severus said simply. "All I would need to do is write up something appropriate."

"If you're sure, I don't object."

"If that's what you think would make the most impact, I'll do it. Though, I admit it might actually be fun were it a golem of Peter."

"I'm sure I could arrange that if it means so much to you," Brand said dryly. "I'll let father know, in any case."

-----

Brand took the time to visit Hermione and retrieve her necklace, then sat with Draco in their suite while he worked on that and the items for the twins. "It would be nice if Tonks would supply something."

"Forget about Tonks," Draco said. "Do you even know the name of the lady in the tower?"

Brand shook his head. "And I don't really want to know. You know I'm not comfortable with any of this. Can you really see me cradling a baby and feeding it from a bottle?"

"You won't be alone, Brand. You might find that you enjoy it."

Brand snorted. "I'll believe that when it happens. I didn't have the best childhood."

"No, you didn't. On the other hand, you got to see two extremes. Surely you can manage to navigate down the middle between what you were forced to deal with and what your cousin got, right?"

Brand set down the necklace he was holding and stared at Draco. It did rather make sense when he thought about it, though he wondered if his mate's issues would lean more toward being able to show affection and expressing himself openly. Then again, he had not yet managed to say those three words to anyone but his father and Remus.

"Is it going to be a problem if we do things Severus's way?" Draco asked, changing the subject.

"I don't see—oh, right. The next full moon isn't until the sixth of September. Why didn't you bring this up then?" he asked as he picked up one of the rings.

"It didn't occur to me then, obviously." Draco sneered at him. "Of course, you could manufacture a rumor which indicates that our lord has found a way to force a transformation and that Severus ended up being the lucky test subject."

"Or make it quite plain that Severus has been found out and tossed in the dungeons, his body to be found later. Sometimes I wonder why we bother making plans at all. Every time I turn around one of you lot pokes a gaping hole into them."

"I aim to be of service, my lord," was the sarcastic response.

"Really? Perhaps I should send you to speak to father, then."

"There are limits, you know."

Brand smiled and set down the ring, then rose long enough to secure paper and a pen. He dashed off a note and called for Maer to deliver it, then set back to work on the ring. "We'll see what Severus has to say about it first. After all, he would normally be heading back to the school shortly, and we can't have that happen now. Perhaps we could stage a very public kidnapping?"

"That might be fun," Draco said cheerfully. "I don't know if Severus would appreciate it much, though, but I wouldn't let a minor detail like that stop you."

"What, that he would have to be seen in public being taken down? What a blow to his pride, I imagine. Draco, do you think those two are ever going to . . . make a move?"

"Eventually, I hope. I'd put my money on it being Remus, though, even if we do see Severus popping up all over the place wherever your godfather happens to be. I'm not sure that Severus realizes what he's doing."

Maer popped back into the room and held out a folded piece of parchment for Brand. "Thank you, Maer," he said as he set the ring on the table and took the note.

_Lord Brand,_

_While there are no doubt countless buffoons in the wizarding community which would fall for a  
rumor such as that with the same ease that a hawk stoops on prey, I rather think that Dumbledore  
would not be quite so easily persuaded._

_By all means, arrange to publicly kidnap me, preferably as I am making my way from Hogsmeade to  
the school, having been foolish enough to choose that route over the possibly more safe choice of  
entering via the forest._

_Your servant,  
Severus Snape_

"Well, that answers that question," Brand said as he handed the note to his mate.

-----

Brand slipped into a seat across from his father and smiled. "So who would you like to be the lucky persons kidnapping dear Severus?"

"You, of course. Though, to make it look good, you ought to take several people with you. While I very much doubt that Severus would complain to me about being taken down by a single man, I am sure he would be thinking it."

"All right. I would not be surprised if he takes all of tomorrow to go after whatever is in his house."

Voldemort shook his head. "It would make sense given that he is to return on Monday." He aimed an innocent smile at Brand and continued, "You know, son, you cheated our people out of a grand show when you decided to finalize that mark on Draco in private."

Brand pushed his chair back and stared at his father with wide eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

"You don't like the idea?" Voldemort said teasingly. "Just think of how much fun it could be."

"Father," Brand said casually as he fiddled with his fork, "there's this ancient curse I stumbled over recently that I've been wanting to test out. I don't suppose you'd be willing to sit still for a few moments so I can get my aim perfect. . . ."

Voldemort chuckled and snapped his fingers, then began to dish food onto his plate once it appeared. "I don't think so."

Brand sniffed and lifted his chin. "You never let me have any fun at all." After dishing up his own plate he said, "I'm grateful that we shan't have to worry about Severus's safety any longer. He's turned out to be a good friend."

"Thanks to you. But I agree, though I doubt anyone would presume to call themselves a friend to me."

Brand fluttered his lashes and said, "I would . . . daddy." He ducked to the side as Voldemort shot a hex at him, then clapped, saying, "Ooo, a sugar daddy! Hey, father, do I actually have any money, or am I poor?"

Voldemort sighed and pursed his lips briefly. "You could at least stay still long enough for me to connect. And yes, you do have money. You have more money than you know what to do with. All you need to do is ask."

"You are my friend, aren't you? I know it's terribly unfashionable to be friends with a parent and all, but really, who ever said I was normal?"

Voldemort cracked a smile. "Yes, son. But if you ever call me daddy again, I shall refuse to speak to you for a week. Why, pray tell, do you care about money?"

"Just curious, I suppose," Brand said with a shrug. "I never really thought about it before. I've no idea how much money Harry had for that matter." He set down his fork and scratched his head. "I wonder sometimes, if James and Lily would have hated me."

"Is there any real point to such speculations?"

"No, but that doesn't stop me from wondering occasionally. Don't you ever wonder about your own parents?"

"My own father could not stand the sight of me and never did love my mother. She tricked him, in point of fact, by use of love potions. Unfortunately for her, she decided one day that it was possible he had come to love her without such help and released him from the effects of her machinations. He left shortly thereafter, wanting nothing to do with her. She refused to live past my birth, or so I'm told. It was hardly surprising to have ended up in an orphanage at that point."

Brand blinked. "How did you find out?"

"Simple investigation, and misuse of my abilities, naturally. I could claim that the insanity which runs in my family prompted my choice to kill my father and grandfather, but I'm not so sure that would be entirely accurate. To this day I have not decided if I am more upset at having been given the man's name, or that I was his virtual twin in looks."

"That's rather scary, actually," Brand said with a frown. "I was nearly a clone of James. What happens if my own child. . . ."

"We will deal with that when the time comes, Brand. There is no sense in dwelling on it now, and, you must remember that you also resembled me in my younger days quite a bit, though not nearly so much as you did James. I would not worry about it."

"All right, father. You do have an excellent point."

-----

By the time Monday morning rolled around, Brand was ready to pursue the aim of kidnapping Severus right out from under Dumbledore's nose. He was lying in wait not far from the train station in Hogsmeade with Draco and Remus, each of them heavily disguised under their masks and robes just in case.

Draco and Remus both had flash bombs ready to be thrown and Brand had already warded them against the effects; he would not have approved their use otherwise. Brand was ready to produce illusory Death Eaters to further confuse the issue, and make it less likely that one of them would get hit by any stray hexes.

The train could be seen in the distance, its smokestack puffing away valiantly as it chugged ever nearer along the tracks, so Brand turned to his companions and nodded. "All right, let's make this look good. Mustn't let his ego get _too_ badly wounded."

Snickers issued from beneath the masks of the other two.

"Just stick with the plan. If something goes horribly wrong, one of you lob a flash bomb early."

They nodded so Brand crept off to rendezvous with the house elves who had volunteered for this mission. "Right, you lot. I'm going to set up the illusions now. Keep with them and use your own magic to harass the staff members just like we discussed. As soon as we have our target I'll make the illusions scatter and appear to retreat. You can go home, then, okay? Just make sure _all_ of you do, so stay in pairs if necessary."

The house elves nodded in unison and grinned. Brand thought it was rather spooky the way they did that, though it was a definite bonus that some of the estate staff was willing to come have a bit of harmless fun as a change from their regular duties. That they were so small made it very unlikely that anyone would actually hit them, especially as they would be making it appear as though the illusions were the ones casting spells.

As soon as he was ready Brand gave them a final nod and crept off, this time to a vantage point approximately midway between the elves and his family. He was counting heavily on Draco and Remus to take down Severus from behind as he himself would be intensely caught up in directing his fake Death Eaters' actions.

The train pulled into the station with a long sounding of its whistle and within a minute staff members began to file off and collect on the platform, breaking away in small groups to head toward the waiting carriages. At that point Brand gestured, using both hands to orchestrate his attack.

Several staff members went down like lead as house elves fired their version of a stunner off, and that made all of them already disembarked turn toward the source of danger to see a cadre of white-masked, black-cloaked figures weaving in and out of cover further down the road as they crept closer.

One of the professors—Brand thought it had to be McGonagall—shot off a patronus toward the school, then darted toward the Death Eaters, rallying the others. Brand would have laughed if he dared at the sight of the tartan-clad lady leaping into battle.

As planned, Severus was the last person actually off the train, appearing to hesitate once he saw what was waiting for him. To anyone else watching, they might have wondered if he was divided between several possible reactions, not knowing who he would be exposing his loyalties to. A split second later saw him begin to race toward the battle only to be felled by a cast of cruciatus.

The other staff members were far enough away so as to not be able to see clearly who was attacking Severus, though they could certainly hear his broadcasted agony at having been caught unaware from the back. They immediately formed something of a circle, near half of them facing the illusions and some toward Severus, the odd one or two protecting each flank.

Unfortunately for them, anyone who dared to dart forward in an attempt to drag Severus into cover was picked off by either Draco or Remus (Brand couldn't tell which) in between short bursts of cruciatus as the other one began using a summoning charm to drag Severus toward them inch by inch after having accio'd his wand. As soon as he was close enough the summoner darted forward and slapped him with a portkey, then threw a flash bomb at the center of the opposition.

The moment Severus vanished Brand sent his illusions into full retreat and began making his way toward his family. The Dark Mark was cast into the air, then all three vanished from sight and ran full tilt for the nearest building and around the back, then up onto the roof in order to be able to watch to see what happened then.

"I really hope Severus is in a forgiving mood," Draco whispered.

"We can certainly hope, " Brand whispered back.

The figure nodded. "Luckily I didn't have to keep him under long. I think I shall avoid him for a day or so."

"I hope to hell those house elves got home okay," Remus whispered, then pointed toward the road. "There's Albus."

"A bit late, isn't he?" whispered Draco snidely. "Imagine that."

"A shame Trelawney wasn't on that train," Brand whispered back. "I'd have liked to have seen her get blasted. Mm, too bad we can't hear what they're saying."

"Dare we hope they enjoy the blindness and headache as much as you did?" Remus asked.

Brand snorted softly. "We'll stay a few more minutes, then go. I don't think we're actually going to learn anything here. However, if the old man calls a meeting, which I suspect he will, perhaps our friend can fill us in on the results of this mission from their point of view."

It became quickly apparent that Albus was doing nothing more than assisting staff members to the carriages along with those who had been facing the wrong way when the bomb went off and could still see. Within minutes there was little of interest to see, so they returned to the estate.

_:Father?:_

_:I won't even ask which one of you did it. Come to the meeting room.:_

"Uh oh. I can't tell if father is upset about that curse or not," Brand said. "We're to go to the meeting room."

Severus was sporting an exceptionally nasty scowl when they entered the room, which didn't bode well. Brand thought it was probably just as well that it had been Draco who had cursed him, as it might have set back the burgeoning relationship between Severus and Remus otherwise.

"I do hope you're all right, Severus," Brand said in a concerned tone once he had seated himself. "I'm afraid a stunner just wouldn't have had the right effect. If you want to get angry with anyone, please blame me." He slipped his hands to either side under the table and nudged his companions. A second later a wand was slipped into his hand.

Brand stood up and moved around the table, stopping beside Severus and handing over the man's wand. Severus snatched it back, so Brand meekly returned to his usual seat at the other end of the table and sat down.

"All right, gentlemen. Let's hear how you think it went," Voldemort said.

Brand began, saying, "First"—he snapped his fingers and addressed Maer—"has the entire contingent arrived back safely?"

Maer nodded and popped out, so Brand looked back at his father. "As far as I could tell, the illusions worked perfectly, father. Those combined with the house elves appeared as nothing less than actual Death Eaters. I sensed and saw no evidence that the targets believed them to be deceptions. It was more difficult than I expected to control so many and keep them out of the line of fire, but I managed. I'm hoping that Tonks will be able to fill us in on just how well we pulled this off once the old man has called a meeting to discuss the attack and she can get back to us." He turned to Draco and nodded.

"My lord, from our vantage point, we concur on the matter of the illusions. As far as the remainder of the mission went, the cruciatus curse was chosen as the best way of disabling Severus from behind. A stunner would have merely dropped him, whereas the curse made sure the targets were aware of his peril. Once he was down, his wand was summoned, he was spelled closer to us, and the portkey used. At that point Lord Brand dispersed the illusions as we set off the flash bomb to further confuse the issue. The Dark Mark was sent up, and we retreated to our spy point."

"Unfortunately, sir," Remus said, "we could not ascertain what they were saying. Albus did finally arrive, but all we witnessed was an effort to get the staff members into the carriages and up to the castle. We left at that point to return here. However, due to the formation they chose, I have no doubt that they witnessed the kidnapping as we wished."

Voldemort nodded and turned to gaze at Severus, who reached into one of his pockets and produced a sheet of parchment. "My lord, the draft."

Voldemort took it and began to read, chuckling occasionally, then sent it down the table to Brand.

_We find ourselves utterly delighted at the realization that the leader of the Light does not make sure  
that his people are adequately protected, even now. Lives really are cheap for you, aren't they? It  
seems to us that the Light's offers of safety are mere rhetoric. Oddly enough, that appears to march  
well with the late Cornelius Fudge's way of doing things, so he must have been a great loss to the  
forces of Light._

_Mind you, it was difficult to bide our time in this matter, having learned from that unfortunate  
werewolf that our dear Severus was, in fact, a traitor, as well as from that foolish ex-auror. Or, is it  
that you are still unaware of his fate? We're sure if you search hard enough, you might just find a  
trace of his passing, but we wouldn't count on it._

_Granted, we were slightly annoyed at having to forego our original plans, but we believe we have  
more than made up for it with this particular offering. No refunds, we're afraid. All purchases are  
final._

_In any case, we certainly hope you enjoy our little present after we went to so much trouble to  
arrange it. We thought it made for delicious irony, and naturally made sure that our pet was alive  
for long enough to provide us with this amusement. Until next time._

Brand looked up at Severus and smiled, saying, "You had way too much fun with this," then turned to his father and said, "Do you think we should also provide a golem of Remus, father, to lend credence to the idea that he is also dead? This does infer that he already is, though. You don't think they'd attempt to storm the estate to try to get him back do you?"

Voldemort shook his head. "As Dumbledore already tried to have him killed, I doubt it. He would likely state that the risk would be too great to make the attempt. The only real objection I have to providing a second golem is that it would be riskier for Remus to leave the estate should we do so, unless he also underwent the ceremony to change his identity."

"I . . . don't really mind, sir," Remus said hesitantly."Much as I dislike the idea of having a different identity, not knowing if I'm alive or not might put other werewolves into danger should one have the misfortune of crossing Albus's path at the wrong time. I suppose I don't care about providing a golem of me, presumably having committed suicide in anguish over what I'd been forced to do."

Brand tapped his chin, then said, "Any werewolf would be in danger, Moony. I don't think it would matter if you were known to be alive or dead. If we use you as an example, it could be said that the old man considers all werewolves to be useless."

"How so? Simply because we're half-breeds?"

Brand shook his head. "No, not really, though I would not be surprised if that were part of it. Let's be honest here. You're a very intelligent man, Moony, and you were absolutely wasted in the Order. Maybe that is saying it's because you're a half-breed, somehow sub-human in his eyes, I don't know. Either way, I wouldn't be shocked if the old man would execute any werewolf who got in his way."

He paused and shook his head again. "Maybe that is the problem—your intelligence. A stupid peon can be quite valuable if all you intend to use it for is as fodder. It wouldn't know enough to question its orders. You are smart enough to eventually see beyond the glitter. The major reason I think you lasted as long as you did is because of your grief."

Remus gave a half shrug. "Perhaps. I'll go along with this without protest, though."

"All right, gentlemen," Voldemort said, taking back control of the conversation. "In that case we will provide two bodies. A cage can be set up in the manor for them to be found in, lending credence to the idea suggested by the letter. We'll just change it slightly to lead them there once it's received so our offering does not go to waste."

"Yes, father."

"Splendid. In that case, all of you except Brand may go."

As soon as they had cleared the room Voldemort stood and approached his son, then said, "I lied. Which one was it?"

Brand laughed softly. "Draco, of course. We decided, without Remus's knowledge, that is, that it would be the wisest choice. It had to be him or me, and I was otherwise occupied."


	24. Neo

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 24: Neo —**

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Brand went off to speak with the contact students over lunch in the gardens, then returned to his suite. Draco was nowhere to be seen so he wrote out a brief note and left it on the table, then contacted his father to let him know he would be going out for a bit.

A short time later he was striding down Diagon Alley, headed toward the twins' shop. As always he disabled the door mechanism before entering, then went straight to browsing the shelves on seeing a number of customers wandering around the shop. It wasn't long, however, before one of the twins sidled up.

"Is there anything I can help you find?"

Brand flashed him a smile. "That depends. How's business, by the way?"

Fred, judged so by the pattern of freckles on his nose, said, "Fine, though we get a lot less traffic during the school year. We've been considering hiring on help so that we have more time to work in the back."

"You don't do that during the summer?"

Fred nodded. "The number of students who came through here the first year was staggering, but it's dropped off a bit since then. Still, we do have to get people in temporarily."

Brand made a casual sweep of the shop with his eyes. "Are you two free for lunch, perhaps?"

Fred glanced over at George unerringly, then back at Brand. "I don't see why not. We can afford to take an hour off."

Shortly thereafter the shop was closed up and they were sitting in the work room; George had dashed out long enough to bring back something to eat. "So what's up?" Fred asked.

"First, your rings." Brand reached into his pocket and removed two boxes, handing one to each of them. "I have another item, but I'm not sure if I should leave it here or arrange something else." He furrowed his brow and gave the room a thorough going-over, checking for any surprises. On finding none, he nodded, then said, "I'm really hoping that I'll be able to speak with Tonks soon. Within the next few days, that is."

"Did something happen?" asked George.

"You might say that. I admit, I'm not really comfortable talking about things here. Nothing bad happened. Look, if you happen to see Tonks, let her know I'm interested in the views of the elderly. And, hopefully within the next couple of days I'll be able to invite you over again. I just need to get a few things finalized. Once I have I'll be able to drop off a portkey."

"I think we can manage to contain our curiosity until then," Fred said with a grin. "But"—his expression turned accusatory—"just what the hell are you doing to our front door every time you decide to visit?"

Brand chuckled and shook his head. "You don't really think I want to get hit by one of your pranks, do you? Besides, it annoys you, and that alone makes it worth doing."

George rolled his eyes. "Be that way. Considering the thing has never once misfired since we set it up, we'll always know it's you, then."

"Perhaps. Look, I need to go track down sis. I'll be back in touch by Wednesday, I hope, possibly tomorrow."

When he did eventually arrive back at the estate, Draco was sprawled on the sofa in his suite reading a book, but looked up sharply at his entrance. "I'm glad to see you've returned. That note of yours wasn't very forthcoming, you know."

Brand shrugged his outer robe off and tossed it over the back of a chair before saying, "I suppose. I dropped off the twins' rings, gave Hermione back her necklace."

"Remus was in here earlier. Seems he's been keeping an eye on his map to see where everyone scurries at the school. Based on what he's been seeing, I think we can safely expect a meeting will be in progress by this evening at the latest. If they head out, though, obviously we won't know anything unless Tonks can fill us in."

Brand nodded and slumped into a chair, lazily throwing one leg over an arm. "Are you up to helping me with the restricted travel room in a bit?"

-----

Brand ushered everyone down the hall and into his suite, then gratefully dropped onto the couch next to Draco. "I'm really going to have to get used to you lot looking so different." At least he could finally tell the twins apart easily; one of them sported dirty blond hair while the other had more of a caramel colour.

Tonks actually looked like a normal person for once, her hair being a colour that was actually found in nature rather than something mixed up in the laboratory of a blind person, though her eyes were a stunning shade of violet. Brand shook his head in bemusement and said, "Right, I just want to test out those disguises first, then we'll all head down for lunch and a chat with father."

He nodded at Draco, who proceeded to cast at each of them to assure that the disguises would hold up, both the glamours and the identities. Once Draco was satisfied, Brand rose and headed for the meeting room after alerting his father they were on their way.

Severus and Remus arrived almost on their heels, and Voldemort appeared a minute later, taking his customary seat at the head of the table. Once lunch had been delivered and everyone was set for food, Voldemort opened the meeting.

"Tonks, is there anything you are able to pass on to us? I presume that Dumbledore has called at least one meeting since Monday."

"Yes, sir, he did. Albus is extremely agitated over the kidnapping and seems to have reversed his earlier opinion about Sn—" She stopped and huffed, then turned to Severus. "You know, calling you Snape at this point just seems wrong."

Severus arched a brow. "Then by all means, call me by my given name."

Brand's private reaction was to be nearly astonished. Severus really was lightening up of late.

She nodded and turned back to Voldemort. "Sorry. Albus has reversed his opinion on Severus being your spy, especially considering that whoever took him down used an Unforgivable to do it. Of course, with Severus gone, that means he has no spies at all, but I did not hear him say anything about sending someone out as he did with Remus."

Voldemort nodded and glanced at Brand.

"So, there was no talk about the Death Eaters specifically?" Brand asked casually.

"I'm not sure what you mean," she responded. "Those involved said there were at least two near the train, and a number off to the other side which seemed to be the main attacking force."

Brand smirked slightly and said, "All right. For your information, aside from the two near the train and myself, those weren't Death Eaters, they were illusions. It seems the plan worked out as good as I'd hoped it would."

"If that is the case, we should be able to further my supposed death without issue, my lords," said Severus.

"Have you made any progress on purchasing those properties, son?"

Brand shook his head. "Not really, aside from getting a much better idea of how to go about things. However, as the students are now gone and we have very little planned right at the moment, I can go out in person. I was going to ask if you would prefer I do everything aboveboard, and possibly end up paying outrageous amounts of your money, or ease things along with a bit of cheating. So long as I know what the properties are actually worth, I could offer each owner twice that amount along with a bit of mental persuasion to hurry things along."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but remained silent on whatever it was she was thinking.

"Try without first, and if they prove to be difficult, then yes. If we are to do this without loss of life or personal property, they will need to be nudged. I realize that even with such incentive, it will still take some time for them to actually leave the area, and that in itself presents some problems for us. If the Order is paying attention, they may begin to wonder just what is going on."

"Well, I could always clear out their homes for them and make them forget how it was managed. So long as they had a key to wherever I stored things, that should be all right, wouldn't it? That way, the Order would never realize offhand that anything had changed."

Voldemort nodded his approval.

"If I may ask, what exactly is going to happen insofar as . . . this death . . . is concerned, sir?" asked Hermione.

"Severus will appear to have died at the hands of a werewolf. Remus, in fact, who will also show up as dead, having taken his own life in response to the murder he was forced to commit. A letter will thoughtfully be sent to the Order so that they may go collect the bodies."

"Oh."

"Did anything else of interest happen to come up at this latest meeting?" Voldemort asked Tonks.

She furrowed her brow, though whether in thought or confusion Brand could not tell. That is, until she said, "Well, I could be mistaken, sir, but Albus brought up Neville Longbottom several times, so I'm wondering if maybe he's beginning to think that Harry Potter was a mistake all along."

Brand blinked, then laughed. "I think the old man is becoming senile, father. Mind you, I'm not saying that Neville is a complete loss, because I know very well that he isn't, but I certainly don't ever recall you stopping by to have a chat with him, never mind leaving any marks behind of any sort. Sounds to me like Dumbledore is considering scrambling for a new figurehead to get people to rally behind."

Voldemort snorted softly and said, "We shall have to see where he goes with that, I suppose, if anywhere at all."

-----

By the time the full moon rolled around, Brand and Voldemort had spent some time laughing over reports of Dumbledore frantically trying to find a replacement for Severus on such short notice. Eventually he had imported a fellow from France, which had made Severus snort in derision. It was his opinion that the man was little more than a poser, despite the fact that he was certified as a Potions Master. Brand, for his part, had visions of a bygone day in which Lockhart had played a starring role as the cause of his frequent frustration and embarrassment.

Dumbledore had also requested the use of aurors to guard the Hogwarts Express, both for each station and again on the train itself. The Minister of Magic was happy enough to acquiesce, and Brand thought it was a late and futile gesture on the old man's part. After all, fear itself was a potent weapon, and killing off a mass of children was hardly going to accomplish anything of value.

In point of fact, had he wished to think in that direction, or his father, it would have made more sense to go on a killing spree of adults such that the children would no longer _have_ adults to watch over them. Were that the case, a program of sly kindness and selective conditioning would likely result in having a huge number of children being indoctrinated into their way of thinking.

However, that was far too complicated to even bother with, and would have rankled on Brand's policy of honesty and his thoughts on the value of life.

Voldemort had completed the two golems, as well, and the one of Severus had been placed in the room which Remus would be using for his transformation, and Remus had reiterated his intention to pretend it was actually Peter in the room with him. Brand found that once again to be inordinately amusing and badly wanted to ask his godfather if it had anything at all to do with his unspoken feelings about Severus in particular, and not Peter.

Two days before the full moon saw them all gathered in another meeting, this time with the inner circle also present, with chairs added to accommodate the additional personnel. Remus, sitting to one side of Brand, looked particularly haggard.

Voldemort opened the meeting by saying, "As you can see, we have new people with us. Like Remus, they are not an official part of our established hierarchy, and report to Brand directly. With that out of the way, this meeting is to bring all of you up to date on our current progress and plans.

"First, we will be staging the deaths of Severus and Remus in two days time. Once Dumbledore's people are led to discover the bodies, they will no doubt confirm their conclusion that Severus was discovered as a spy for them and dealt with appropriately.

"Second, we are presently in the middle of working out the details for the destruction of Order headquarters. This will understandably take longer to finalize. Other items. . . ."

Voldemort went on to mention the squib team and the relocation team, as well as briefly touch on plans for Dumbledore's death, and various other issues of note. As soon as everyone had been brought up to date, and any and all discussion was out of the way, he dismissed everyone, though he requested that Brand remain behind.

"What is it, father?"

Voldemort shrugged slightly and said, "Nothing of importance insofar as business goes. I'd like you to join me in my rooms so we can spend some time together, that's all."

Brand brightened and nodded, then followed his father up to his suite. He disdained a chair in favor of sitting on the floor next to the chair his father chose and rested his head on Voldemort's leg, smiling directly he felt fingers thread into his hair. "I continue to be amused, father. Our hedgehogs are constantly staring at each other when the other isn't looking, and Severus is forever showing up wherever Remus is like clockwork. As much as I wish one of them would finally make a move, I must allow that watching this circling is a great deal of fun all on its own."

Voldemort chuckled softly. "Should I assume you have restrained yourself from interfering?"

"Of course, though it's been very difficult. Draco keeps going off into fits of silent laughter around them. He's had to turn away or hide his face so often that it's a wonder neither of them have noticed that, either."

"Not to delve too deeply," said Voldemort, "but I did want to tell you how proud I am of your command of the situation during the kidnapping."

"Thank you, father. You know how much your approval means to me," he said as he wrapped an arm loosely around Voldemort's leg.

"Brand, why do you so often sit on the floor like that with me?"

He lifted his head and twisted to glance up briefly. "I just do. It makes me feel good to be so close. I mean, I think I'm a bit old to be sitting in your lap, so this is a good compromise, don't you think? And besides, it feels terribly nice when you play with my hair like that. Maybe I crave your affection as much as I crave your approval." He shrugged and laid his head back down.

"Even with Draco I don't feel like I can completely let go. There's always that sense of needing to remain in control because of our positions. With you I never feel that way. I know that Draco would probably not think any less of me, but still. . . ." He toyed with the hem of Voldemort's robe. "And he knows that, despite everything, I have the final say in things."

After a bit of a pause Voldemort said, "In some ways, the relationship dynamic you describe is much like our own, except you are hardly submissive."

"Well, no. But it would have to be something extraordinary to cause me to openly defy you. Of course, I wouldn't exactly say that Draco is submissive, though naturally he defers to me."

Voldemort shifted slightly, then said, "I still think you have no real understanding of what you mean to me, Brand."

"I'm not sure I ever will. That doesn't make you love me any less, though, does it?"

Voldemort chuckled again. "No. I do not think that possible. I will love you for eternity."

-----

Early on the morning after the full moon saw two golems being quietly delivered to the entrance hall of Severus's manor house. The Severus golem was ripped to shreds; no part of the body had been spared, and Severus himself had donated rather a lot of blood in order to make things a bit more realistic. The Remus golem was somewhat different, however.

Remus himself had directed how that was to be handled, though he watched rather than participated, being too worn out to exert himself if not necessary. He had advocated the simple expedient of making it appear as though he had used his human fingernails and teeth to ravage his own wrists, and also provided blood himself.

Naturally, Severus had had to do a bit of work for both of them in the lab in order to bolster those quantities into amounts that made sense, doing some fancy tinkering with that taken from livestock (which ended up in the kitchens afterward for dinner at some point).

Once things were set to their satisfaction a raven was sent off to Dumbledore, timed to arrive during breakfast. The only unfortunate part was knowing that none of them could spy on the reaction there, though Brand did conceal himself at the manor, along with Draco, in order to see who would show up to investigate.

The sound of the front doors being thrown open had him and Draco stop their quiet muggle card game and cautiously glance down around the columns they were hiding behind on the first floor to see Dumbledore himself appear flanked by Tonks and Shacklebolt. She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth and looked away as Albus strode forward, stopping as he reached the cage and sighing.

"It seems I have made a grave mistake in judgment," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing slightly as it drifted up to where they were positioned.

Kingsley stepped to his side and shook his head regretfully. "I've heard the stories. This had to be the worst possible thing they could have done to him, and to Remus."

"It's barbaric," said Tonks crisply, apparently having recovered from her bout of squeamishness. "Dear Merlin, it looks as though Remus chewed through—ugh."

"Neither of them has any remaining family, so it falls to us to take care of them," said Dumbledore. "We will need to get them out of there and see to finding a decent place for them to take their final rest. We shall also have to find out if either of them left a will."

Tonks and Shacklebolt forced open the cage door and levitated the bodies out, then draped them with sheets found in one of the rooms off to the side of the entrance hall. Brand supposed that much of the furniture was covered to keep the dust off during Severus's extended absences, especially since there had never been any mention of house elves in his service.

They beat a hasty retreat, however, once it became apparent that the old man had every intention of having a look around and began to ascend the main stair, gathering up the cards and using the portkeys they had waiting. On arrival in their suite at the estate they exchanged similar grins, then crossed the hall. Brand knocked on Remus's door, then entered once he heard permission and flopped into a chair cheerfully.

Remus gave them both a tired smile and said, "So?"

"The old man showed up," said Draco as he took a chair as well, "with Tonks and Shacklebolt. They acted exactly as we expected." He continued on as Brand contacted Voldemort instead.

_:Father?:_

_:Yes.:_

_:We've just got back. Let me send you my memory.:_ After he had done that he waited.

_:Splendid. I'm feeling a bit of vindictive pleasure at the moment. Hearing Dumbledore admit a mistake is very appealing, I must say.:_

Brand chuckled and responded, _:I think we all are, though I've yet to show Remus and Severus what we saw. Draco has been explaining to Moony, though.:_

_:That's another thing off our list, then. As soon as Remus is feeling recovered we will move ahead with the identity changes to ensure their protection off the estate.:_

_:Tomorrow I will start on the first of the people on our list to get moved, then, father. The sooner I've got that done, the better I will feel.:_

-----

Remus, in point of fact, became Rhys Varian Blake officially, and Severus took on his alias of Siorus Korbin Verdi. Brand had given Severus an amused look over the choice of a surname, but had not commented. Even so, they were still referred to by their originally given names by everyone, so it was not as though there was much confusion as a result of the changes.

In truth, it was really only to add an extra layer of protection should they leave the estate for any length of time. While it was true that there were spells which could prevent those of a location nature from finding them, it was deemed better in the long run to have an identity which was more than simply an affectation, and it was no trouble at all to have them confirmed within the ministry itself.

What was even more amusing for Brand was witnessing a determined-looking Remus (after the naming ceremonies) marching up to Severus and thrusting out one hand, then saying, "Hello, my name is Rhys Blake. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Severus, after sporting a bemused look for several seconds, had clasped the outstretched hand and given it a firm shake, then replied, "Siorus Verdi. Likewise."

Remus had smiled slightly and said, "What do you say we go get to know one another better? Any friend of Brand's is a friend of mine, after all. He's my godson, did you know?"

At that point, the two had wandered off, and it was all Brand could do to not follow them surreptitiously to see exactly what was to transpire.

-----

Brand was sprawled on his couch reading a book when a knock came at the door, causing him to look up and call, "Come in," then watch curiously as it opened to reveal Tonks. He waved her in, and to a seat, then asked, "What's up? I wasn't expecting you."

"Something's been on my mind lately and I really thought I ought to talk to you about it before I did anything potentially rash."

Brand raised his brows, then marked his book and set it down, swinging his legs around so he could sit up properly. "Go on."

"You know that . . . Narcissa is my aunt. Draco knows, obviously, and I'm happy that I can finally talk to my cousin without it erupting into a fight, but I can't help but think it might be nice to reconcile with her as well, and I'd like to think that she'd be discreet—even Lucius—but I don't know."

"Breathing is good," Brand said teasingly and smirked. "Look, why don't I get Draco in here first. I should think he would know best how his parents would react to this knowledge. If he doesn't think it's a good idea. . . ."

When Draco arrived and had been filled in, his first comment was, "Don't tell anyone I said this, but mother is a complete pussycat if she's away from father." He shot each of them a quick look, then said, "I don't think they'd react badly at all, though I think, if you wanted to go ahead with this, that it would be better for me to invite them here for dinner one evening.

"In one of the cozier dining rooms, perhaps. You could join us for a family meal. And I'm fairly certain that the second father was out the door, mother would start cooing over you and smothering you with welcoming hugs and all that rot. If you'd prefer, though, I could just invite mother for lunch, and worry about father later on. It's up to you."

"You know, I think that'd be nice, Draco. And forgive me for saying so, but your father is a wee bit intimidating. I'd probably end up flinging food all over the place out of nervousness. Could we start with lunch, then?"

Draco nodded and flashed her a smile. "All you need to do is pick a day and I'll set things up."

-----

Brand, having successfully taken care of the issue of housing with Draco's able assistance—there was certainly something to be said for the sheer amount of charm his mate was able to produce—he informed his father that they could move ahead at any time regarding Order headquarters.

"Aside from the obvious," he said, "I also made sure that the normal routine—visible, that is—is being kept. By that I mean the lights come on in those homes at the normal hours, the curtains are drawn, and all manner of fiddly things that may or may not be noticed."

"Excellent work, son. Then all we need do is arrange a very muggle accident that will take out that entire area. I would suggest that we plant a few seeming bodies, much as we did when we handled the issue of Severus and Remus. That way, the muggle authorities and news people will not be reporting on the coincidental oddity that no one seemed to be home at the time."

Brand nodded. "Of course, father. The less suspicion there is, the better. The old man will be wondering who he pissed off to be receiving such bad luck of late. At any rate, the twins got their hands on schematics of the systems in that area—gas, electric, and so on. Considering that it's appallingly easy to get down into the tunnels under the city, I don't see why we can't make it seem as though a leak occurred, and some nameless person inadvertently set off an explosion."

"Wouldn't that take out rather more than we were after, traveling outward along the lines?"

"Not necessarily. There are safety cutoff valves that are supposed to confine damage to smaller areas. Whether or not they work properly is another matter, but I can go down and make sure of it."

Voldemort nodded. "Then whenever you're ready, execute the plan."


	25. The Odd Minor Explosion

**Original Upload**: ?? 2005 ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 25: The Odd Minor Explosion —**

* * *

Brand did visit the tunnels, as he had said he would, though he took the twins with him. And while they found that for the most part the safety cutoff valves were in good working order, several were not, necessitating a round of repairs. Of course, given that none of them were exactly mechanical wizards, magic was used to ensure that they would function properly when the time came.

Brand had every expectation that as these were a normal aspect of the tunnels, no suspicion should fall when they actually did work. One never knew, however. Once they were confident to move ahead Brand created an odd little shield of sorts in order to contain the leak he was about to cause while the twins moved a golem into place along with a number of supporting pieces of evidence.

They felt, and Voldemort had agreed, that even if that aspect of their plan amounted to nothing, it was worth the extra effort to make it appear on the surface as though a homeless person had been using the tunnels as a shelter (complete with numerous cardboard boxes, a campfire, empty tins, and even wine bottles) and had inadvertently triggered the explosion.

"Are we ready, gentlemen?" Brand asked.

"Yep," they chorused, then clicked their heels and saluted.

Brand rolled his eyes and half covered his face, then said, "Okay. The shield I've put in place will hold until we get far enough away. It's directly linked to me, so the farther away I go, the weaker it will become. Since you've got the fire going, I'll start that leak, and we can get the hell out of here."

"It's kind of a shame," Fred said. "I almost liked the place. I think you're right, though, that he would laugh over this."

Brand flashed them a lopsided grin and nodded, then turned and gestured, concentrating. The metal of one of the pipes began to corrode, then flake, and finally split, and while he could not smell anything escaping from it because of the shield, he could certainly hear it. "I think that's enough," he said, looking over his shoulder, "so let's go." After making a quick gesture to halt the progress of the corrosion, he turned fully and headed off, the twins right behind him.

They employed the first ladder up they came upon and exited, then walked quickly down one of the streets perpendicular to the tunnel they had just emerged from, pausing only long enough once they were unable to be seen to disapparate and reappear quite some distance away. Brand moved to the window of the room they were in and smiled. They had a perfect view of the area in question.

The twins broke out a set of cards and all three of them enjoyed a game of Exploding Snap while they waited for the effects of their machinations to manifest. It was surely coincidence that at the same time the cards exploded, so did a portion of London.

-----

Brand was in a very good mood when he arrived back in his suite, and the first thing he did was pull Draco off the couch and engage him in a lingering kiss that very quickly threatened to get out of hand.

Draco pulled away finally and gave him a curious look, then said, "Should I be worried that you'll become addicted to causing explosions now because they apparently make you frisky?"

Brand did not deign to answer, instead dragging Draco into the bedroom and banishing the clothes from their bodies, then pushing his mate down onto the bed. "Don't be stupid," he whispered just before he captured Draco's mouth a second time, and his hands began an assault intended to firmly redirect his mate's thoughts.

He could not get enough of the silken feel of Draco's skin, his very unique scent, or the way that tongue moved against his own, just as Draco pressed against him almost as though he wanted to meld their bodies into one. It made him feel slightly mad. After ravaging Draco's mouth to the point that his mate was breathless, Brand pulled back and whispered, "I ache for you so badly."

Draco, his eyes somewhat hazy and his pale face tinted pink, half closed his eyes and nodded. "I am yours," he murmured, then lifted his chin and licked his lips.

Brand felt as though someone had ignited a fire under his heart, one that did not burn but rather made him ache that much more intensely. Draco's hands were quickly pinned over his head as Brand went for his neck, and a more reserved part of Brand's mind was already casting spells. When his mate was writhing beneath him in deliciously wanton abandon, Brand withdrew his fingers and released Draco's wrists, then sheathed himself smoothly.

-----

The next morning Brand awoke to find himself wrapped around Draco. The sheets were in complete disarray and the blankets were lying in a twisted heap on the floor. A glance at the clock showed it to be well into the morning, causing Brand to heave a mental sigh; his father would surely twit him about this. Draco murmured sleepily and stirred in his arms, shifting around to face him and press a lazy kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Brand smiled and caressed the side of Draco's face gently. "Good morning."

"Time is it?" Draco mumbled.

"Half ten."

"Mm, okay." A second later Draco's eyes popped open and he sat up abruptly. "Half ten? I was supposed to meet father at half nine!"

"My very dear Draco, I do believe you're late, then," said Brand with definite amusement. "I wonder how upset he'll be with you."

Draco turned a glare on him, then slipped off the bed with a growl and entered the bathroom.

_:Father?:_

_:Yes, Brand?:_

_:I don't suppose you've noticed Lucius wandering around with a scowl on his face, have you?:_

_:As a matter of fact, I have. However, at the moment he's sitting with me in my public study.:_

_:All right.:_ He rose and followed Draco into the bathroom, and into the shower. "Your father is with mine presently."

_:Should I inform Lucius that Draco will be arriving shortly?:_

_:Yes, father, please. It should only be ten or fifteen minutes, I think.:_

_:Then you shall accompany him. You know, I should be upset with you, son. You ought to have reported to me when you returned rather than getting distracted by Draco.:_

Brand snorted and stepped directly under the water. _:I apologize, father, for being remiss in my duty.:_

_:Apology accepted, Brand, but do try not to get distracted in the shower, hm? I should hate to have to figure out a way to actually punish you for something.:_

"Let's hurry, Draco. They're both waiting."

Fifteen minutes later the two of them strolled into Voldemort's study and Brand immediately greeted his father and father-in-law before taking a seat. The first thing out of Draco's mouth was, "Good morning, my lord," followed by, "I apologize, father, for keeping you waiting for so long. It was not intentional." It wasn't until Lucius nodded that Draco took a seat.

"I realize that the two of you have your own issues to discuss," Voldemort said smoothly, "but as we are here presently. . . . Brand?"

"Yes, father. I will assume you have learned nothing yet from outside sources. The mission went off without a hitch to the best of my knowledge. My team went down and made sure that the valves would function as designed, then pro—" He stopped, aware of an alarm going off from his secondary map.

"What is it?"

"Ah, one moment, please, father." After a quick check Brand snapped his fingers and gestured Maer close once he appeared, then whispered, "Escort the person presently in the restricted travel room here, please? Make sure they are disguised."

Maer nodded and popped out, so Brand turned to Voldemort. "One of my people has arrived," he said even as he sent, _:Tonks just apparated in. I asked Maer to bring her here.:_

Voldemort nodded. "Continue."

Brand furrowed his brow, then said, "Yes, we proceeded with locating an appropriate line and setting up the evidence. Once that was accomplished, I created a shield to contain the leak while my comrades finalized the other details, then corroded the line until it split. From there, we moved to the lookout point and waited, and were gratified to see that entire area go up in flames shortly after. A discreet check a bit later on showed that the target was destroyed as planned."

Voldemort smiled and said, "Excellent work, son. Then I expect we will soon be hearing news of the Order's reaction."

Maer stepped into the room and bowed, then retreated as Tonks entered. She had a somewhat nervous air about her, but said readily enough to Voldemort, "Sir."

Brand addressed her, saying, "Is this something my father should hear, or. . . ?"

She turned, though not without Brand noticing a glance darted toward Lucius, and responded, "Sir, it is in regards to the results of your mission."

"Please have a seat before you begin."

Tonks walked a little stiffly over to a chair and sat down—Brand wondered if she was praying she wouldn't trip—then said, "Sir, Dumbledore is aware of the destruction and a meeting has been called for this evening."

"At Hogwarts, then?"

She nodded.

"Do you feel you'll be able to safely report back on the aftermath of that meeting?" asked Voldemort.

"Yes, sir, though when depends. I am on duty tomorrow until six."

"If the meeting does not run too late, and you're good to return here tonight, do so. Otherwise I'll expect you sometime tomorrow evening," Brand said. "Would you like to stay for lunch?" he added, thinking that if she had anything she wanted to speak about privately, that would give her an easy option.

"I would like to, sir, but I can't. I sidelined here as soon as I got the notice, but I'm really supposed to be somewhere at the moment."

Brand nodded. "I'll not delay you further, then. I appreciate that you detoured here to inform us."

Tonks rose and gave everyone a nod, then slipped out, so Brand turned his gaze back to his father. "That didn't take long."

"Pleasingly, no. Lucius, Draco, you may go."

"Yes, my lord." Lucius immediately got to his feet, arched a brow at Draco, then departed. Draco followed a moment later.

Voldemort took a deep breath, glanced at Brand, then closed the door with a gesture. "You might consider asking Draco to alert Maer to days when he must specifically be up at a certain time? Lucius in a snit is not my favorite thing to deal with."

Brand bit his lip to keep from smiling and nodded. "Of course, father," he said, then stretched indulgently. "Mm. Would you like to come have a picnic lunch with me? I missed breakfast and I'm starving. I thought we could go sit in the garden."

-----

They ended up in Brand's favorite spot, sitting on a blanket spread beneath the oak tree and partially in the shade. Maer had been kind enough to bring them a basket of food and drink, and Brand was presently sprawled on his back eating a piece of fried chicken.

"You will retain this place, won't you, father?" he asked after a short silence.

"I'm sorry?"

Brand rolled over and crossed his ankles in the air, a pensive look on his face. "The estate. Even if we do go ahead with relocation, I am hoping that you retain this place. I have so many good memories here, and this place is home. I think I would be deeply upset if I could not come here when I wished. I know, it's so much more than that, but. . . ."

"If you wish to keep it, we will. You know I would not deny you."

Brand smiled with pleasure and had another bite of his chicken. Several moments later he said, "Yes, but I would not like to demand, either. I like that I can come out here and simply enjoy my surroundings. I know the old man knows our location, but even so, I feel safe here. Perhaps it sounds terribly homey, but I can see us taking walks in the garden of an evening, or even having more picnics. Simple things. Of course, I won't know how I feel once we move, though I can hope we will all be comfortable."

"Brand, I have decided on a new location."

His head shot up in surprise. "Where?"

"After a great deal of thought, I've chosen the Isle of Man. Much of it is uninhabited, as you may already know, and that will give us a good starting point. However, I fully intend to stretch the limits of magic to the utmost and fashion us not only buildings on the surface, but also underwater. We would be close enough to the British community without being directly in it, so our people would easily have the option to continue to work in Britain, or transfer to jobs within the new community as they become available."

Brand blinked slowly, considering his father's words before responding. Finally, he latched on to the one thing that immediately stuck out in his mind. "How would that affect us in terms of banking?"

"In the beginning, it wouldn't. I realize that you know very little of the family finances, but most of our money is not in Gringotts, though some of it is. However, once we were in a position to do so, we could approach the goblins to see if they would be willing to create and staff a bank for us. And in this case, with a much better deal than they presently enjoy."

"Well, father, you must know that when it comes to anything financial, I haven't a clue, and that includes most anything about the goblins themselves. Yes, I do know that they employ people like Bill Weasley and presumably gain wealth that way, but. . . . Well, I've never really understood how it works out that they survive when it seems as though vault holders do not pay for the privilege of their service. Or do they?"

"Part of it does come from exchanges, Brand, as well as whatever treasure the curse breakers bring in. However, the British Ministry does subsidize Gringotts. Assuming that we were able to work out a deal that satisfied both sides, I have little doubt that the goblins would serve well and happily, without the temptations of the past."

Brand shrugged. "You're going to have to teach me at some point, father. My ignorance of certain things is not an asset. But to change the subject slightly, if you do mean to build both above and below the surface, could we not alter our plans a bit? It seems to me, perhaps, that anything underwater might be reserved strictly for wizards only, whereas the surface territory could be mixed. It might serve to address to some degree the issue of families that either have non-magical children or . . . non-magical spouses. Granted, I would still prefer to prevent squibs in the first place, but it would give us some leeway."

"Yes, it may at that. Though I question whether or not it would alter the dynamic in any way as far as how staunch purebloods view everyone else."

Brand pursed his lips. "Do any of them even know you're a half blood?"

"I'm sure any number of our people have heard the rumors, Brand. How many of them suspect or know it to be the truth is something I do not know."

"I would not wish to see you diminished in their eyes, but I allow there are times when I think it would be nice for that particular charade to end. And there is no denying the fact that you are of the Slytherin bloodline. Now that I think about it, I did actually tell the group you sent after the prophecy that you were a half blood. Perhaps they just didn't believe me." He stripped the remaining chicken from the piece he held and tossed the bone onto one of the platters.

When Voldemort had not responded by the time he was finished eating it, Brand rose to his knees and moved closer, then flopped down so that his head was resting in his father's lap. "I suppose," he said, "that I'm going to have to figure out the issue of coercions. Either that, or we're going to need one huge fidelius charm."

Voldemort chuckled and began to play with Brand's hair.

He eyed his father for a moment with a sly smile, then said, "I always have the urge to transform just a tiny bit when you do that, so that I might be able to properly purr. It seems as though no other response is quite adequate."

Voldemort arched a brow and responded, "My dear son, I trust you do not harbor thoughts of transforming fully, for I know full well what cats do, and I do not fancy the idea of your claws kneading holes in my leg."

"I wouldn't dream of it, father," he assured him. "Besides, you'd probably retaliate with jets of water, and I shouldn't like that at all. Underwater, huh? I can already imagine the view overhead. It should be magnificent."

-----

Brand was wandering through the halls with a mind to track down Remus and spend some time teasing him when he happened upon Draco's father. Lucius excused himself from his current conversation the moment he saw Brand, then approached with a purposeful air.

"My lord, I would like to speak with you privately, if I may."

Brand raised his brows in mild surprise, then nodded. "Certainly." Knowing that his father had retreated to his private study, Brand led the way to Voldemort's public study, waving Lucius to a seat as he closed and warded the door, then took a seat for himself. "What's on your mind?"

Lucius, who had remained standing, gave him a somewhat chill smile and said, "My lord, as a member of the inner circle I am privy to certain information as you know, which is why I choose to raise this issue rather than chance that you will see it yourself at some point. Obviously, I refer to the fact that you can look into people's minds at will, and without their knowledge even. To that end, I should like to point out that I have finally put my finger on the reasons why a very particular something has been occupying part of my attention for quite some time."

Brand squinted, then glanced away and blinked. "Lucius, as it stands you are, to all accounts, my father-in-law and a part of my family. I would prefer, especially given that, that you speak plainly and without a lot of verbal circling."

"As you wish, my lord. You were Harry Potter."

"Sit down," Brand commanded after a second of shock. The moment Lucius obeyed Brand created a sphere in his hand and started running conditions through his mind, then flicked the sphere before Lucius had a chance to properly react. After taking a deep breath he said, "I see. And how have you arrived at that conclusion?"

"I would like to think that I am not unintelligent, my lord, nor am I lacking in perception. Our lord certainly left wide open the implication that you are not his natural son, for one thing. Next, knowing what I do from the past, I am fully aware of the mental link our lord shared with Mr Potter, and it is improbably coincidental that you happen to enjoy that same privilege. Further, I found it highly suspicious that Remus Lupin suddenly became a member of our complement. Perhaps my logic is faulty, but there is only one person I can think of who would have been able to arrange that particular feat, never mind the accomplishment of recruiting other people well known to be staunch supporters of Dumbledore, such as . . . my niece. Add to that the fact that Lupin has quarters on the restricted level."

Brand arched a brow, then slipped into an easy smile. "Supposing, just for a moment, that you are correct, what does this mean to you, Lucius?"

"That would depend, my lord. At the risk of offending you past the point of reason, I would like to know if your choice of my son as your consort is aboveboard."

Brand did a slight double take, then buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I cannot believe I am hearing this," he murmured, and after pushing his hands up and back through his hair, he said, "Lucius, I choose to interpret that as a sign of fatherly care and concern for your son, and not the words of a man who thinks only of the continuation of his line to the exclusion of all else. You are, perhaps, concerned that if I truly was Harry Potter, that my choice of Draco has something to do with, oh, a twisted sense of revenge based on our past history in school?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Again, supposing I was Harry Potter, how does that affect you and I, Lucius, for if I am not mistaken, he caused you rather a lot of trouble personally, and I sincerely doubt he was at the top of your Christmas card list."

"My lord, you have proven yourself beyond question as the heir of our lord, and have long since gained my trust and respect. However, I must know about my son."

Brand heaved a sigh and stood up to pace restlessly for a bit. "You know, I'm actually at a loss right now. I have no idea what to do with you." He stopped and looked over. "But I can say that I chose Draco because he also chose me. I—he is very dear to me, Lucius, and I would rather die than intentionally hurt him."

"I am pleased to hear that, my lord."

"As well you may," Brand said, his voice slightly rough. "Just . . . don't move." He sat down again and lifted his head to say, "Father?" even as he sent a request for Voldemort to join them immediately.

Several minutes passed in silence, then the door opened and Voldemort stepped in. Brand immediately shot a compressed memory across their link without bothering to look up, and seconds later his father closed the door and took a seat.

_:He is your advisor, father. I will not presume to decide how to handle this situation in your stead.:_

_:Have you bothered to look into his mind to see the truth of things? Or if he has spoken of his suspicions to anyone else?:_

_:No. I will do so now.:_ He was . . . very gentle in his search, gentle enough that it was likely Lucius felt nothing at all. What he found did reassure him; Lucius had not spoken of it even with Narcissa. He also was genuinely concerned for Draco's welfare. After passing that along Brand fixed his gaze on his father and waited.

_:Son, I would not be surprised that even if you erased this from his mind he would figure it out a second time. I think it would be wise to simply retain the coercion you placed on him. Whether or not you explicitly confirm his assertion is your choice.:_

"All right," Brand said. "Welcome to a very select fellowship, Lucius. Yes, you are correct, I was born Harry Potter. But that boy is dead, and you should understand that you will not be able to speak of this with anyone except myself. I do not want, nor will I allow, our people as a whole to alter their perception of me based on the mythical icon that he was. I rightfully rejected that revolting little fantasy and I refuse to wear that mantle a second time. I can, however, assure you that Draco is fully aware of my former identity, so you need not have any concern on that particular matter. I will even discuss this further with you if you wish, though certainly not at present. But before I go, I do have one other thing to say. I trust, given that you have in fact realized who one of my informants is, that you will _try_ to treat her as the family she is should she approach you."

Brand rose and said, "Father, I'll be on our level if you have need of me."

-----

The first thing he did on attaining the third floor was knock on Remus's door, then slip inside the moment he heard an invitation. Brand flopped onto the sofa directly next to his godfather and rested his head on Remus's shoulder.

"What's wrong, Brand?"

"Lucius figured out who I was," he muttered, then snuggled closer as he felt an arm wrap around him. "It's okay. I mean, it's not like I wasted him or anything. I just feel . . . I don't know."

"What did your father have to say about it?"

Brand half shrugged and said, "He said it was my choice to confirm or deny. I went ahead and confirmed it. He is my father-in-law, after all. Interestingly enough, he was concerned about why I chose Draco. He might be a largely unemotional man, but he does have actual feelings for his son."

"So why are you so out of sorts?"

"I don't know. People aren't supposed to add two and two and come up with five, Moony. I don't like it. And if it weren't for the fact that this knowledge hasn't diminished me in his eyes, I think I might be feeling somewhat angry right now, and I'm not even sure that makes any sense."

"I think it does, actually."

Brand tilted his head back and to the side so he could see Remus's face. "How so?"

"If it had diminished you in his eyes, you might say it meant that everything you've worked for here was for nothing. All the respect and trust you've earned through your own effort would be almost meaningless. On the other hand, you could interpret it to mean that Lucius was a brainless twit who didn't deserve to be one of your father's most trusted advisors if he couldn't weigh the one against the other and come up with the answer he already has."

Brand snorted softly. "I suppose you're right."

"And do you plan on telling Draco that his father knows?"

"I can't think of a good reason not to, especially as I did let Lucius know that Draco is aware, and it's not as though they could discuss it directly anyway." Brand straightened and twisted so he was sitting sideways on the couch and gave Remus a curious look. "How's it going with Joshua?"

"Very well, thank you. Since it's just him, we've only been having lessons in the mornings, and at that, Severus is taking on half of them. The only exception will be Astronomy, but that's a given, and not that big of a deal until it's time for him to do some actual stargazing."

"That's good to hear. You know, I wonder if Hermione might want to consider teaching. Surely she would find more satisfaction in that than working for the ministry. I should think she'll get bored fairly quickly."

"I could always mention it to her the next time she visits," Remus offered, "see how she reacts to the idea."

Brand nodded, then smirked. "Speaking of reactions, how is Severus?"

Remus pinned him with a suspicious look. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Brand said, widening his eyes, "I was simply wondering about his reaction to that stunt you pulled the other day. You know, when you introduced yourself?"

"I was merely trying to start things off on the correct figurative foot now that we are both supposedly new people."

"Oh, right. Of course you were. How silly of me to think otherwise."

"Brand."

"Yes, Moony?"

"Butt out, will you?"

Brand gasped. "I'm shocked." Then he leaned forward and flashed a cheeky grin at his godfather. "So, have you kissed him yet?"

"Brand!"

Brand sniffed and sat back. "It's almost like you don't trust me or something. It's not like we have a betting pool going on. I mean really, that would be crass."

"Brand?"

"Yes, Moony?"

"Why are you being such a pest about this?"

"Because I love you? I want to know if you're happy? I want to know if I'm right about my interpretation of all the soulful looks you keep giving Severus when he's not paying attention?"

"How do you know that Sirius and I weren't really mated for life?"

Brand snorted. "That's just a silly old myth made up by some hopeless romantic. Isn't it?"

Remus chuckled. "Yes, Brand, it's a myth. Look, if anything does happen, I promise that you'll be the person I confide in."

Brand clapped and crowded in for a quick hug. "Thank you for cheering me up. I need to go find Draco and tell him about his father."

-----

Draco strolled in and took a seat next to Brand, then quite nearly squeaked when he was abruptly pushed onto his back and straddled. Brand then flirted his brows up briefly and said, "Hi."

"Hi," Draco replied, albeit somewhat suspiciously.

"I have some news for you. Sort of. It seems your father is a very intelligent, perceptive man, Draco. He's gone and figured out who I used to be."

"I had nothing to do with it. "

Brand shook his head. "No, you didn't. He did take the time to explain how it was that he arrived at his conclusion, and I made sure he wasn't fibbing. So, he knows."

"Then I'll assume you didn't kill him in a fit of pique," Draco drawled.

"Of course not. That might have gotten blood on father's carpet and he'd have been ever so upset with me." Brand sat back and sighed slightly. "Seriously. He figured it out, confronted me, and after a short consultation with father, I decided to simply confirm his suspicion. He was worried about you."

Draco wrinkled his brow and said slowly, "My father was worried about me."

"Yes. But please don't say anything to him about it, all right? He was worried that I'd chosen you because I wanted to lull you into a false sense of security before I enacted my revenge for all the stuff that went on while we were in school together. Of course I told him that was the furthest thing from the truth. For heavens sakes, if I were going to get revenge on anyone it would be the Dursleys, or even your father for nearly getting Ginny killed. But you? No."

Draco scowled briefly and said, "You make it sound like I wasn't trying hard enough."

Brand snickered. "Just think of how much fun we could have had together back then if I'd ended up in Slytherin. We might have been each other's firsts."

"That's it," Draco said firmly. "No more explosions for you. You're acting altogether too strangely right now."

Brand sniffed as though deeply wounded, then blinked. "That reminds me. One of his bits of evidence was that he recognized Tonks. One of us will have to break the news to her when she arrives so she isn't hit broadside by that. I think, though, that your father will have the good sense to be gracious about a reconciliation."

"Threaten him, did you?"

"I only made a suggestion, Draco."

"Brand, why have you pinned me to the couch?"

Brand glanced off to the side for a moment, then said, "Because it seemed like a good idea at the time?"

"Then perhaps you should follow through on your capture, hm?"


	26. Divergence

**Original Upload**: ?? Nov 2005 ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues. And I got to this chapter, and really started cursing up a storm over not having blockquote.

* * *

**— 26: Divergence —**

* * *

She did not arrive until the next evening. Brand had been on his way to his suite when he sensed an alarm going off, and smoothly diverted to the restricted travel room and stepped inside. "Hello, Tonks. Have you eaten yet?"

She shook her head. "No. Actually, I was hoping I could scrounge a meal while I was here. After all, it certainly beats cooking for myself."

Brand grinned and nodded. "It's just about dinnertime anyway, so that's fine. How about we go to my rooms, and afterward we can talk business."

It was only a short walk and they were ensconced at Brand's small table within a couple of minutes, at which Draco joined them. Once food had been delivered, Brand exchanged a look with his mate, then turned his gaze on Tonks. "Something a bit odd happened to me yesterday, Tonks, and strangely enough, it also concerns you."

She gave him a slightly wary look and set her silverware down.

"It's nothing bad," he assured her, "and you may or may not be surprised by this. To make a long story short, Lucius is aware of your identity."

Tonks slumped a bit and let out a gusty sigh. "I just get too nervous around him."

"Perhaps. In any case, it came up when he apparently came to some sort of a decision about me. As it turns out, he's figured out who I used to be, and your identity was one of the things that helped him arrive at that conclusion."

She gave him a wide-eyed look, though whether it was fear or mere surprise he couldn't tell. "It's all right," he said. "I may not be all that happy about this, but as father put it, even if I had obliviated him, Lucius would likely have managed to figure it out a second time. I just hope more don't follow his reasoning, or even notice anything out of the ordinary. In any case, I didn't think it would be very fair if I neglected to let you know."

"Does that mean Aunt Narcissa knows, too?" she asked, then retrieved her utensils and started to eat.

Brand shook his head as Draco said, "No. Father didn't speak of his suspicions to anyone. If you want, I'll include him in that lunch we have scheduled already, but otherwise I'll hold off until you're ready to see both of them together. As I said before, mother is a pussycat when she's not doing the whole routine."

Tonks heaved another sigh and set down her fork long enough to scratch her forehead. "I think," she said slowly, "that just your mother at first is better. She can talk to Lucius if she likes and see how he reacts. It would still be simpler to see her here, though, since I don't fancy the idea of heading to Malfoy Manor, even in disguise, or even meeting her in public. While I'm not sure of how many people are watching your family, Draco, I'd rather not take any chances."

"That's fine."

The remainder of dinner was taken up with inconsequential talk—certainly nothing to do with business matters—though Brand did relent long enough to mention that his father had finally decided on a place to relocate to. It was only once they had all sat back in replete satisfaction that the subject of the last Order meeting was broached.

Tonks immediately pulled a small vial from her robes and placed it on the table. "I stored a copy of my memory, just in case."

Brand smiled in surprise. "I was going to ask if you thought a memory would be better, but you've anticipated me."

"I think you'll find parts of it interesting," she said with a nod. "Though, as much as I hate to say it, I do actually need to get going. It's my night for Order duty. Albus is still concerned that the Grangers will be attacked."

"Why is that?"

She made a slight face and shrugged. "He seems to think now that the attack has been called off, it would be the perfect time for Voldemort's forces to actually do it anyway, possibly thinking that the Order would have relaxed their guard and they'd be easy prey."

"Heh. Well, all right. I hope you have a book handy, then," Brand said teasingly.

Once she was safely on her way Brand contacted Voldemort. _:Father, Tonks dropped off a memory of the last Order meeting for us to look at. I don't know who you'd like to be present, though obviously, I am slightly concerned with blowing her cover here, as very few of the inner circle know who she is.:_

_:Yes, Brand, I am well aware of that.:_

_:Well, let it not be said that I am not exceptionally good at stating the obvious.:_

A sense of amusement came, then, _:I will limit this to those who know. It will be a few minutes before Lucius can respond to a summons, so go ahead and inform Severus and Remus, and assemble in the meeting room.:_

_:As you wish, father.:_ Brand swept the vial off the table and retrieved a pensieve from one of the cupboards, then snapped his fingers. "Maer, please let Severus and Remus know to come to the meeting room." Then he turned to Draco and said, "Let's go."

-----

_"Everyone, please settle down. I would like to get started," Albus said in a gently commanding  
voice. A minute later he nodded and said, "Now, a report, please, on the destruction of  
headquarters."_

_Hestia Jones straightened and cleared her throat, then said, "It appears to be coincidence, Albus. I  
spent quite some time lurking about, listening to the emergency workers, and investigating on my  
own. A minimum of twelve people were killed in the explosion, which was caused by a leak in one of  
the gas mains in that area. In fact, it did not take long before the muggles discovered what looked to  
be an encampment in one of the tunnels under the city."_

_"Yes, what about it?"_

_"It appears that someone was using the tunnels as a shelter based on the evidence uncovered by the  
fire brigade's investigators. Pieces of badly rusted pipe were recovered, and it was clear that  
whoever had decided to live down there had set up some kind of campfire. Obviously a bad decision  
given the results."_

_"And why is it that only that area was affected?"_

_"Muggles have safety devices down there to prevent the spread of this sort of thing."_

_Albus nodded and stroked his beard absently. "So you saw nothing which would lead you to believe  
that this was somehow a plan of Voldemort's?"_

_"I'm sorry, but no. I suppose it is possible that it was, but there was nothing to suggest it, and it  
would mean that Voldemort has stepped beyond his prior tactics and has started to look at muggles  
ways in a slightly different light. At any rate, I'm not sure I see how he could have known where  
headquarters was in order to target it."_

_Albus's brow creased in thought for a moment before he shook his head. "The same way we figured  
out where their headquarters is, Hestia. Or at least what we presume is their headquarters. And  
while it may be that that property is merely a transfer point, Remus was able to bring back word  
from there, so I suppose it could be both."_

_"And what about that?" asked Dedalus. "What stops us from spying that place out from a  
reasonable distance and figuring out how to destroy it?"_

_"For one thing, we do not know what a reasonable distance is," Albus said patiently. "Remus was  
not anywhere that he thought was dangerous at the time he overheard the plans to attack the  
Grangers, and yet, they obviously must have realized he had been there. There is no other reason I  
can think of why they would have tracked down where he lived in order to capture and interrogate  
him."_

_Albus paused and played with his beard again, seemingly lost in thought. "We will continue our  
surveillance of the Granger property," he eventually said. "I am not convinced they are no longer in  
danger. We should not relax our guard simply because the attack did not occur as scheduled. It may  
be that Voldemort believes we will turn to other matters and use that opportunity to strike when we  
are not expecting it."_

_He paused again, this time to glance up and down the table, then said, "Kingsley, you will take  
watch this evening. Tonks, you will tomorrow evening. I will work out a schedule shortly and alert  
those of you concerned. In the meantime, we need to be on the lookout for another place to call  
home. While it may be true that the current Minister of Magic is nothing like the late Cornelius  
Fudge, I would prefer to keep Hogwarts out of this conflict as much as possible."_

_"Albus, what are we to do now that Snape is dead?" Arthur asked. "Our only spy has been killed."_

_Albus peered at Arthur over the rims of his spectacles, then said, "That is a very good question,  
Arthur. However, the answer is not so easy, nor is finding a replacement. You are aware that  
Severus came to me of his own free will. I somehow doubt that I shall be entertaining Lucius Malfoy  
in my office next week on the exact same matter."_

_"Yes, but—"_

_"But? If you know of any Death Eaters who are wavering in their views, Arthur, I would like to  
believe you would have told me by now. As it is, I also somehow doubt that you will be volunteering  
for the job, nor offering any of your children for the task."_

_"Albus!" exclaimed a rather shocked Molly._

_"Forgive me, Molly. I am merely trying to make a point. Voldemort would surely kill anyone who  
attempted such a feat, being far more cautious now with the advent of Severus's death. I am quite  
certain that he screens recruits into his ranks with extreme care at this point, and I would not be  
surprised if he has begun interrogations of his existing people to assure himself that there are no  
others likely to betray him. In converse, I also would be wary were a Death Eater to approach me  
and profess a desire to atone for their sins at present._

_"Severus survived due to his mastery of Occlumency, his cunning, and his sheer determination to  
endure anything in order to bring us back whatever information he could. Unless something  
extremely fortuitous happens, I do not foresee another like him gracing our doorstep. And at that, in  
order for it to be a member high enough up to do us any real good, it would likely take a miracle.  
Nevertheless, you may be sure that should it happen, the person in question would be subjected to  
intense questioning under veritaserum."_

_"Why can't we use Snape's place? He don't need it no longer."_

_Albus cast a somewhat reproachful look down the table at Dung. "Do you not think it unwise to use  
a property that Voldemort is very much aware of, and might miss were it to suddenly vanish into  
thin air?"_

_"I'm jest saying," Dung continued callously. "S'not like he left a will, an' them muggle repelling  
charms'll keep _that_ lot away from it. It's jest gonna go to waste like it is, an' I can't see ole snake face  
caring 'bout it."_

_"I do not believe it to be a wise choice," Albus said firmly. "We shall look elsewhere."_

_"Bastard prob'ly stripped it of anythin' decent before we ever got there," Dung muttered, then  
whipped out a knife and began cleaning under his nails with it._

_Albus's jaw tightened for a split second, but he otherwise did not react. "Let us move on."_

Unfortunately, the remainder of the meeting was quite boring, not to mention lacking in anything of substance. Brand turned to Severus and said, "Are they always like that? I honestly don't see how they get anything done."

"Dumbledore is not a man who easily shares power, my lord, or information. In any case, that was not atypical for an Order meeting."

Brand cast a quick look at Remus, who shrugged slightly and nodded, then sat down and gazed at his father.

"Son, given the apparent success of that particular plan, you might wish to consider handing out the odd reward," Voldemort said with a brief arch of his brow.

Brand thought about that for a second, then nodded. He couldn't imagine offhand what either of the twins might like, but he could always ask, he supposed. And for that matter, he could also ask Hermione and Tonks.

"Severus, Remus, what are your thoughts on the fate of the Order once Dumbledore is dead?"

"Aside from chaos, my lord? It is my opinion that Minerva would be tapped to take over, though I expect she would lean heavily on Arthur and Kingsley, and I have serious doubts as to her overall effectiveness."

"I tend to agree, sir," said Remus. "Though Moody might have been the most likely successor, as Albus at least shared some of his plans with him."

"I could wish that we had a way to know beyond question what the old man's plans are, but I do not see offhand a way to accomplish that," Voldemort stated.

"Well, father, that assumes he actually has any, or does more than think of them to himself. It is possible that once he's dead, efforts against us will completely collapse, and we can sit back for a short holiday, then focus on relocating and whatnot. Personally, it seems to me that since we killed his only sure hope of victory that he's not done much of anything except look venerable. Well, aside from arranging for the odd person or two to be killed.

"If the prophecy I was shown was real, then his chatter about Neville is complete tripe. And while people may like to believe that you're afraid of the old man, we know that to be as ridiculous as the idea of me taking up underwater basket weaving as a hobby. What is he hoping for? Another prophecy to suddenly erupt from that old bat's mouth?"

Remus looked at him sharply, then said, "Perhaps your little friend might be able to help?"

Brand blinked at him. Little friend? "Dobby?"

Remus shrugged. "He did rather adore Harry Potter."

"Setting that aside for the moment," Voldemort interjected, "when was the last time you winnowed through the minds of our people, son?"

Brand did a slight double take, then said, "A few days ago, father. Are you concerned about what the old man said?"

Voldemort snorted softly. "Not exactly, though it never hurts to have an eye out for such thoughts. It simply brought to mind that you should, perhaps, expand your focus to also test the prevailing sentiments regarding some of your more radical ideas. As I do not necessarily expect it to be much longer before we do, in fact, move ahead with the old man's death, it would be wise to know before we begin to build just who may need to be set aside based on their unsuitability."

Brand nodded in understanding and drummed the table surface with his fingers. "Then I would request another gathering be held for all. I might not end up being much of a host, though, father, but I could check all of them that way rather than waiting for times when they arrive for other reasons, or going out to track them down individually."

"So be it. Now, getting back to the earlier topic. . . . This house elf mentioned?"

Brand looked at Lucius for a few seconds, then turned his gaze back to his father and said, "Given Dobby's devotion and adoration for Harry Potter, he might prove to be useful. Obviously, I do not know who takes care of Dumbledore's office and private quarters, but the possibility exists that he may be able to assist us in some way, though that assumes someone can figure out a reasonable way to approach him. Also, he is a free elf and I openly admit that I understand very little of. . . ."

He rubbed his face with both hands, then folded them on table. "He is beholden to no one, and if he were to be approached, and decided that we were evil, it may well be that he would go straight to Dumbledore. I know of no way offhand to contain a house elf against his will. Not a free one, anyway."

Remus reached over to touch his arm gently, then said, "And what of the fact that Dobby knew, somehow, how to find you originally? Is it possible that he knows, er, the truth?"

Brand shook his head and raised a hand to massage his temples. "Look. Everyone in this room knows who I used to be. Please just. . . ."

"Is it possible that Dobby knows you aren't dead?" Remus rephrased, then added, "And if it is, and he does know that, isn't it interesting that it appears he's never told anyone?"

_:Brand? Do we need to adjourn for now?:_

_:I'm sorry, father. This is just very awkward under the circumstances. Please be patient with me.:_

_:If you're sure. We'll continue, then.:_

Brand swept his hand back and through his hair, leaving it to rest on his neck. "I don't know. And I'm not sure—" He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked toward Remus and Severus. "A stupid question, perhaps, but, to your knowledge, did Dumbledore ever reveal the prophecy?"

"No, my lord."

"Then why is he still at this? What possible hope does he have? Is what I was shown somehow a fake? Altered in some way? I know that woman can actually speak prophecy. I've witnessed it firsthand. If I'd had half a brain that night I would never have—" He cut off and shook his head. "I suppose that's beside the point." He looked up at his father and sent, _:Am I seeing intrigue where there is none? I simply do not understand.:_

Voldemort arched a brow, then smiled faintly. _:It is possible that the old man believes exactly that, Brand, that I am afraid of him.:_ Out loud he said, "I see no reason not to consider the idea of getting this Dobby to assist. I am quite sure if one of you comes up with an idea of how to make an approach a reasonable reality, you will inform either myself or Brand. At the moment, however, it appears that the Order remains largely ineffective given this intelligence, so we will adjourn for now. You may all go."

Still, Voldemort's eyes lingered on Brand, so when everyone else rose to leave, he remained seated. "Son, perhaps you would like to join me in my rooms."

"Certainly, father." Several minutes later found Brand sitting on the floor and leaning against his father's leg, idly playing with the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"It is possible, son, that Dumbledore believes such nonsense. It would be one explanation for why the man seems to be so stubbornly unyielding. I would not be surprised if he clings to his previous victory over a dark lord like a banner to hold high as righteous proof of his wisdom and power. Given your earlier question, and the answer, if Dumbledore in fact revealed that prophecy to no one but you, Brand, he may have decided that it does not mean what he thought. Prophecy can be . . . ambiguous."

After a short time of silence Voldemort said very softly, "He that is already corrupt is naturally suspicious, and he that becomes suspicious will quickly be corrupt."

Brand twisted around to give his father an odd look, partly of confusion and partly of wariness.

"One of the more interesting aspects of your character is that you try to see the best in others. Granted, that is not always possible. I would not like to see you obsess over this matter and lose perspective. If we can find a way to learn more of what is on the old man's mind, so be it. Otherwise, we will continue to keep our ears in circulation, and move ahead with what plans we have.

"Aside from the rather interesting suggestion of that house elf, I see no other alternative beyond you getting near enough to the man personally to sift his mind. And, while I have no doubt that is within the realm of possibility, I have seen nothing to suggest that we need to take such a measure. Rather, there is nothing to say you cannot do that just prior to your debut as a ghost.

"At any rate, should information come to light in the interim which suggests that as a wise course of action, I do not see why you could not take the place of one of our own Slytherin children at the castle for the space of a meal."

Brand nodded and turned back. "I'm sorry, father, you're right. Maybe I am just looking for trouble where none exists." He felt strong fingers begin to glide through his hair a moment later and closed his eyes.

"I must wonder if Lucius will trouble you further on the matter of your former identity. Though, given your rather impassioned speech, I have my doubts."

"Frankly, I hope he doesn't, though I will honor my word if he does. I find myself not exactly thrilled with the idea of explaining myself again."

"If his main concern was for Draco, he may not bother."

"Well, that and preferring to come to me before I saw it in his mind."

"And what of our hedgehogs?"

Brand chuckled, immediately feeling a bit better. "If Moony is to be believed, nothing has happened yet. Yes, I finally gave in to temptation and teased him about the whole situation. On the other hand, that is confirmation of a sort. He called me a pest."

Voldemort laughed softly before saying, "Somehow I have no trouble imagining you in that light when it comes to your godfather."

-----

Hermione was, in fact, quite pleased to know that her concerns about the whole venture had been listened to and taken into consideration. Brand suspected that, much as with Remus, she was happy to not be brushed aside for one reason or another, however idiotic the rationalization for such a thing might be. It also served to drive home the point that Voldemort was, more or less, quite a reasonable man and willing to be persuaded to consider alternatives, or at least to change his plans to some degree, regardless of where they originated.

She did express some interest in the idea of teaching, but quickly enough moved on to other topics at hand, no doubt thinking that without the proper infrastructure in place, there was little point in gearing up for a totally new profession so soon.

"I think," she said, "that given my current position, I could be fairly obvious about things."

"How do you mean?"

"I do work with house elves. What if I'm curious about the real differences between free and bonded elves? I know only of two elves who are free. And by that I mean not waiting to be bonded, though I have my doubts about Winky. I suppose it would not be unreasonable for me to visit with Dobby to discuss his view on house elf rights and how his life is in comparison to those who are bonded."

"A typical course of action, in other words." Brand nodded rubbed his face.

"I assume you wouldn't do something potentially silly like trying to convince Dobby that he ought to be campaigning in the kitchens for more elves to seek freedom," Remus said.

Hermione let out a soft snort and shook her head. "While that might be an interesting endeavor, no. Little miss analytical would want to know just how good or bad the average house elf fares, and Dobby would be one measure to judge by, don't you think? I could always send a letter to Dumbledore explaining what I'm after and ask for permission to go visit him at the school."

Brand grinned at her less than flattering description of herself. "Your reputation is useful in more ways than one, sis. If you think you can pull it off, I have no objection. After the initial encounter, it's more of a question of finding out Dobby's views on certain things, preferably away from the castle itself, and then seeing if he might be willing to help us out should the need arise."

"I'm sure if I just sit on the idea for a bit and think about possible questions and reactions that might arise, I would do fine."

"I don't doubt that one bit, sis. You did exceptionally well at that lunch, after all."

Hermione smiled at him, then all turned their heads as a knock came at the door. "Come in," called Remus.

The door opened to reveal Draco and Severus, who quickly entered and moved toward seats at Remus's nod. "I was wondering where you were hiding, Brand, but since you didn't leave a note. . . ."

"Well, here I am. What's up?"

Severus decided to answer after a nod of his head in greeting. "It is in regards to Joshua. Given my new identity I would like to know when my guardianship of the boy can be formalized."

Brand half covered his face with one hand and sighed. "I'm sorry, Severus. That totally slipped my mind. We can take care of it today if you like. It's up to you if you'd prefer I summon one of our applicable people in the ministry here to the estate, or go there in person."

Severus nodded and said, "My preference is for doing so here. The less fuss, the better. This way, the official can simply return there and file the paperwork quietly."

"So be it. I'll drop by the ministry in a bit to let one know what we need and we can take care of this after dinner. The paperwork should go in first thing in the morning."

Hermione shifted in her chair, a curious expression overtaking her face. "You know, I've never actually met this boy."

"Is that a hint, sis?"

She wrinkled her nose at him, then nodded. "I think it might be nice. Besides, I doubt he has very many female role models around here. This organization is primarily male in nature, after all, and I sincerely doubt that Lestrange is the sort of person most people would want around their children for any length of time. That is"—she shot a look at Severus—"if you don't object."

"No, I do not. And as I have come to understand that you might be persuaded at some point to take on a teaching role, it might be as well for Joshua to become familiar with you simply for that reason."

"Thank you. Unfortunately, I must be getting back. Lunch is just about over and I shouldn't like to be late. I'll be running my thoughts on Dobby through my head and let you know once I'm ready to approach him, Brand." She rose and dropped a few hugs around the room, then strode out.

By that evening the paperwork had been filled out and duly witnessed, and Joshua was sporting a huge smile that left no doubt in anyone's mind as to his feelings on the matter. He even had a smile for Brand, which was quite heartening in his opinion. It did cross his mind to wonder if Severus would ever take things a step further and adopt the child.

Brand retired to his suite with Draco well pleased, though not without a sense of irony. At least the man who had taken Joshua for his own was not the one who had killed his parents, or more specifically, his father.

Lunch the next day apparently went well if Draco's behavior was anything to go by once he sought out Brand. He appeared to be highly amused, in fact, and gladly explained to his mate all about how his mother had done exactly as expected and quite nearly smothered Tonks in affection.

"I don't think I've ever seen Tonks quite that surprised before," was Draco's comment, "and I did warn her."

Hermione dropped by again shortly thereafter and went off with Remus to spend some time getting to know Joshua. Brand expected that Severus would also have appeared at that meeting, but left them to it. However, what might have turned into a relaxed afternoon with Draco was interrupted unexpectedly.

_:Son.:_

_:Yes, father.:_

_:I have just received reports of Death Eater activity that I did not order.:_

_:What? What kind of activity?:_

_:Come to my private study. We'll discuss this.:_

Brand rose to his feet and looked back down at Draco's puzzled expression. "I'm sorry, but I need to go speak with father. Something's come up. I'll tell you what I can later on." Then he left and quickly headed to the study, stepping in a minute or so later and taking a seat. "What's going on?"

"Reports have come in of Death Eaters going on killing sprees, Brand. You and I both know nothing of the sort has been ordered. Either we have rogue people, or someone else, some other organization, is using our reputation to wreak their own havoc."

"Have you already ordered another gathering?"

"Yes, for this coming Friday evening."

Brand nodded. "If you think it can wait, I'll check for signs of rebellion then. Really, though, father, I cannot imagine it is our people. I've caught nothing of that nature in my sweeps so far. I'd also hate to think that there are people out there using this as a way to catch our attention. If there are, it merely points out that they aren't very sensitive to the current climate or are quite stupid."

"Or there is a faction that believes our current tactics are far too lenient and seeks to rise in our place."

Brand sighed and played with his hair, then gave his father an assessing look. "Or perhaps Dumbledore is tired of having nothing to visibly struggle against. If I find nothing among our people, perhaps it would be wise for me to slip in, as you said, as one of the students and do some sampling."

"What of that other idea? Has anyone come forward with plans to approach the elf?"

"Yes, actually. Hermione might be good for that in her position. She suggested it and will be thinking about it. I'm not sure how long before she'll get back to me on it, though. Father, if you want to arrange for an inner circle dinner mid week, I can check them again then. I do think that we ought to have people keeping tabs on whoever decides _not_ to appear Friday so I can hunt them down and check, not to mention find out why they declined the invitation. I think if we stretch dinner out I can manage it, though I might not be able to stay the entire evening."

"I understand. If you and Draco should disappear after the meal, I will know why. And yes, I will call the inner circle here for dinner. Wednesday. Here," Voldemort said, then pushed a folder across the desk. "The current reports. No, I do not mind if your particular circle here knows of this."

Brand pulled it closer and picked it up. "All right. After I go over this I'll check the current security shift. I'll get the others as they come on duty."

"That is acceptable. I suggest you ask Maer to wake you." Voldemort flashed him a brief smirk. "Merlin forbid your activities this evening should cause problems for you awaking in a timely manner tomorrow morning."

"Very amusing, father. Since you decided to bring it up, I'll simply have to make sure I do something to deserve such a remark." Brand rose to his feet and circled the desk so he could drop a kiss on his father's head, then returned to his suite.

* * *

**Note**: Quotation used in the chapter, attribution: Joseph Addison (1672-1719), British essayist. "On Suspicion," Interesting Anecdotes, Memoirs, Allegories, Essays, and Poetical Fragments (1794).


	27. An Old Friend

**Original Upload**: 27 November 2005  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

* * *

**— 27: An Old Friend —**

* * *

The moment Brand returned to his suite he threw himself onto the couch and flipped open the folder. The reports showed that at least six supposed Death Eater attacks had been made in various parts of the country, all of them against muggle towns, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of people. The most interesting aspect of the intelligence revealed that the targets formed a rough circle around the estate.

"This can't be coincidence," he muttered, then passed the summary sheet over to Draco, who had remained utterly silent. "Get Severus and Remus in here. We may need to call the others in." While Draco summoned Maer he read through the next sheet, which detailed the known information on one of the specific targets.

He looked up as a knock sounded at the door and opened it with a gesture, then waved both men to a seat. "In short, it appears that we have a problem, though how serious it is I don't yet know. Draco, are you done with that?"

"Yes," Draco said absently, then handed it over to Severus, who shared it with Remus.

Once they looked back up Brand said, "Obviously, this is _not_ us. Father is just as surprised by this information. For the moment, this is not to go beyond us, though I may need to include sis, Tonks, and the twins. You three go over this while I do a sweep of the current guard shift. While father and I have already gone over certain suspicions we may have, I'll want to hear your thoughts as well."

It took him an hour to ghost the minds of the shift watching the travel room and handling general security coordination, and the various patrol teams. By the time he returned to his suite he was feeling slightly irritable. After snatching a butterbeer from the drinks tray that had appeared in his absence, and seeing that he had their full attention, he said, "The current shift is clear. As I told father, I'll check the next two as they each come in. Mid-week I'll check over the inner circle, and then everyone else I haven't managed to get during the gathering on Friday. I honestly expect to find nothing."

"I agree," Severus stated. "It is my opinion that the most likely culprit here is Albus."

Draco and Remus nodded as Brand said, "All right. I also happen to think it's Dumbledore. I find that far more likely than a third party looking to capture our attention, or protest our lack of cruelty of late, especially given the target locations in relation to this estate."

"What are the odds that he goes after the Grangers, then?" asked Draco.

Brand clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, then opened them with a sigh. "I don't know, but I would not be surprised if he killed them in our name to stir the pot. The problem is, if he is thinking along those lines, who else might he target? The Weasley family? Other members of the Order he doesn't much care for? And, of course, how is he managing this? I cannot believe he's persuaded members of the Order to go on these sprees, or placed them under imperius. I suppose I _will_ have to borrow the guise of a student temporarily and see exactly what's on the old man's mind."

"That's probably wise," said Remus, "but what of the safety of Hermione's family in the interim? Is it possible for you to place a set of wards up that would prevent anyone aside from certain people entering that home? Or even getting near it?"

Brand furrowed his brow. "It would have to be something extremely subtle. We can't turn away wizards and muggles alike. The Order guards would surely notice something was wrong and report it back to Dumbledore. I'll have to check, but it's possible that one of father's books has something on wards that can repel or redirect violence."

He rose and fetched some supplies, then sat back down to scratch out several copies of the same coded message. While they had not been able to fully indoctrinate Tonks, the twins, or Hermione in that respect, they had been taught several phrases as a start, and they would recognize this as a request to come to the estate as soon as humanly possible.

After he folded the notes and thought about it for several moments, though, he looked up and said, "Remus, I'm going to show you father's library. Severus, Draco, you can assist if you wish. I'm going to see if I can catch the others directly or if I need to send out owls. And, after the shift change at four, I'll have to do another sweep to make sure we aren't harboring any rogues, but then I can join you and see how far you've managed to get, all right?"

Heads nodded all around, so Brand rose and gestured, then led them to the library, sending out a quick message to his father to update him on what was presently taking place. Shortly thereafter he was striding into the twins' shop, only somewhat annoyed that there were a plethora of customers browsing the goods.

It took some time before George wandered over to see what he was up to, giving him a cheerful smile and greeting. Brand returned it, surreptitiously passing over one of the notes as he shook George's hand. George gave a faint start of surprise, then tried to talk him into purchasing a Deflagration Deluxe box, which Brand laughingly declined.

"Do you happen to know where sis and my cousin are today?" he asked a moment later.

George appeared to consider that, then shook his head. "Neither of them said anything the last time we ran into them." After a short pause he said, "Listen, we've got something you might be interested in. Want to see?"

"Sure," Brand replied and followed George into the back room. As soon as they were away from potentially prying public eyes he nodded at George's hand, and once the man looked up from reading the note he said, "Dinner tonight? Or whenever you two close up shop for the evening?"

"Yes. I don't know where sis is, but you can use our owl. Can't you find your cousin by dropping in on work and checking the schedule? Or don't you have any friends there?"

Brand shifted and combed his hair back with one hand. "Not exactly, but I should get her to give me a schedule, shouldn't I. I'm just now realizing how very awkward it is to get in contact with certain members of my family. Yes, please, if I can borrow your owl, that would be great."

George went off to fetch it so Brand sealed the note and wrote Hermione's name on the front, then handed it over once his friend returned. "I'll go make another visit, then, and see what I can find out. I'll see you later on." He was escorted back out to the sales floor and left, though not without a slight wave to Fred, and as he walked down Diagon Alley he contacted his father.

_:Father?:_

_:Yes, son.:_

_:Would you do me a favor and send Maer to Remus? They need to be alert in case Hermione arrives while I'm still out, and they're presently in research mode.:_ It was then that he noticed a very familiar form passing by across the street and casually changed direction and came up beside Tonks, walking in step with her.

_:Certainly. I trust you'll return soon?:_

"Hello," he said quietly. _:Yes, father. I just stumbled over Tonks.:_

"I was just headed to see some friends," she replied, "but now I don't need to."

_:Maer has been sent.:_

_:Thank you, father.:_ Brand smiled faintly and nodded. "I'm having some friends over, the usual crowd, and was hoping you were free."

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"I'd love it if you'd stop by, then. I'll even feed you."

"That's a deal sealer," she said, then laughed. "I'll drop by shortly, so be prepared."

"Excellent." As he passed by Ollivander's for the third time that afternoon Brand snorted softly. "I'm heading home, then. Don't forget to bring your appetite."

Shortly thereafter he was welcoming her at the estate, quickly leading her away toward his father's library. No sooner was she settled into a chair did his alarm go off, signaling the arrival of Hermione. Maer was sent off to fetch her, and then to get the folder still in Brand's suite.

"Right. We have a potentially serious problem on our hands. You two, read through this. Talk to the others. I need to go check this new shift. Guys, keep an eye on the map for the twins and fill them in if they arrive before I return. I'll be another hour or so."

Several minutes later he was in his father's private study to check in personally. "You know, this is very annoying. I was all set to have a nice, quiet, relaxing afternoon and evening. At any rate, I'm just waiting on the twins to arrive, though I'm not sure I expect them before I check over this latest bunch."

"Given what I've been sensing, I imagine you will be sensible enough to remind your circle that your temper may not be at its best."

"Yes, that would be the wise thing to do. You don't really suspect any of our people, do you."

Voldemort shook his head. "But it would be foolish to take that assumption as fact. What do you wish to do?"

"Immediately? I've got them researching in your library for ways to protect the Granger and Weasley homes unobtrusively. I might have to extend that idea to wherever it is Hermione's parents actually work. The second thing that comes to mind is your own idea, taking the place of one of our contact students for the space of a meal."

Voldemort nodded. "We will expand on that idea soon, then. Go ahead and check the current shift. And, son? If you do happen to oversleep tomorrow, I shall be kind and not give you grief over it for once."

Brand broke out into a fond smile and got to his feet so he could drop a kiss on his Voldemort's head. "I love you too, father," he said, then stalked out gracefully.

-----

"All right. Tonks, it would make me very happy if you could pass on a copy of your work schedule. That's not something I can ask for at the ministry without raising suspicions. Aside from that, where are we?"

"I think we've tracked down something of use insofar as warding goes," said Remus. "We've set those books aside for the moment as we didn't want to remove anything from your father's library."

Brand nodded. "Fine. Sis, twins, are you all right with this? I don't want to believe that Dumbledore would do such a thing, but I'd rather be prepared with an eye on the safety of your families."

All three of them nodded, but it was Hermione who spoke. "Brand, I want you to know that I don't attach any blame here. It has occurred to me that Dumbledore might have taken your original fake plans for his own idea and may decide to push them further, but that's the beauty of hindsight. So long as we can come up with a way, or ways, to adequately protect them, I'm fine."

He started to say that had never been his intent, but thought better of it. He knew she understood, that she wasn't just paying lip service to the idea. "Well, I hope you can be as instrumental as any of us in averting potential disaster. As soon as we're done with dinner, we can head back to the library and go over that material. Since I doubt that your parents could be convinced to drop everything for an extended holiday, we'll just have to be sneaky. Still, I tend to think that the Weasley family is in less danger. After all, half the family is part of the Order, and Percy has already been attacked, sort of."

"You know, mate, the least you could have done was fiddle with his brains a bit more and give him a sweeter personality," complained Fred jokingly.

Brand arched a brow and replied, "I'm sorry, but a sense of humor is something you have to be born with. As I keep telling people, even I can't work miracles. Either way, we can ward the Granger home and business, plus the Burrow and wherever you two are living these days. And on a related note, how much time are any of you spending around Ron?"

Hermione and the twins passed a glance around for a few seconds, then George said, "Not a lot, though we see him when we have dinner once a week at the Burrow. The thing is, he's not been able to find work. We had been considering offering him a job at the shop, but now we're not so sure."

"Okay, we'll come back to that. Hermione?"

"About the same, really. Once or twice a week. I think he's a bit upset that I found work, to be honest."

Brand furrowed his brow and turned back to the twins. "Hasn't found, or hasn't bothered looking?"

The twins shrugged. "Oh, he's looked," said George, "but with his OWLs and NEWTs. . . ."

"Why aren't you sure about giving him a job?"

"He might see it as charity for one thing. Second, we aren't sure how much trouble that would cause us considering what's happened lately. And third, you might not like it."

Brand blinked in surprise and frowned. "What do I have to do with anything?"

Fred shot him a patient look. "You seem to be forgetting that you are one of the founders of our shop. And, may I say, your original investment has been netting you quite a bit of profit. We've kept track."

Brand was freshly surprised. "I didn't invest," he protested, "I gave you that money outright. And why on earth would you bother to keep track when Harry ended up dead?"

"Habit," George said blithely. "So really, when it comes down to a question of whether or not we should hire Ron, we thought you ought to have some input."

"No, I don't care. And as far as I'm concerned, whatever profits I supposedly have can go to a fund for orphans, or new brooms for Gryffindor, or . . . whatever."

Fred looked at George and said, "Ron's pay?"

"I'm more concerned that you'd do something overly helpful like let him move in with you. That could be extremely awkward. As it is, I'll have to choose a new face to wear around the shop if you do bring him in. I'd rather he didn't know what I looked like, even if he has no real clue who I am."

"Then might I suggest," Severus interjected, "that your name in that instance be Mark?"

Remus began laughing softly and shaking his head. "Definitely. Must keep up with tradition!"

Brand smirked, then noticed the puzzled faces ringing the table and felt moved to explain as he once had to Moony about why he'd chosen the name he had.

"Then I would suggest a surname of Rebus," offered Hermione with a straight face.

Back in the library after the meal was over, they went over the aforementioned reference material until it was quite late, prompting another call for Hermione to send a note off with Maer to her parents so that they wouldn't worry. She did not, however, stay the night, and hastened off just before ten, but not without a collection of emergency portkeys, and not without having given Brand the address of her parents' practice.

He had every intention of placing wards there as quickly as possible, though their home would have to wait a few days until Tonks was back up on duty. That way, at least, they would not be forced to subdue some other Order member and plant false memories of that evening's events. The home of the twins was no issue, but the Burrow might also prove to be problematic. If Arthur wasn't home, Molly usually was, and of course, Ron.

To that, however, the twins shook their heads. "We'll just take them out for a pleasant afternoon or evening. Depending on how long it takes to construct the wards. . . ."

Still, given that those locations were not exactly muggle in nature, Brand felt they were safer to some degree. The twins opted to stay the night, so Brand went off as it neared midnight. A quick mental touch had told him his father was still awake, so he headed for Voldemort's rooms, letting himself in quietly, and found him tucked into bed reading.

Voldemort looked up, unsurprised, and smiled briefly.

Brand took a seat at the foot of the bed. "I'll go check the last shift in a little while, and the team has found what looks like a viable method of protection. I'll get started in on that shortly."

"I assume you'll have, at the least, your three here helping you?"

"Yes. They can always be disguised. Hermione has already made the connection between what we wanted to fake and what the old man might do based off that. She's not upset with _us_, though. Anyway, I think we'll have to arrange to slip me in as one of the students. I don't see how we can avoid it at this point."

"Assuming you are fine the morning after this gathering, perhaps then," Voldemort said. "It would likely be far easier to get one of them to a quiet spot outside, or even in town, to change places. And, given that I know you drilled the contact students relentlessly in more than just code, I have no doubt that you could switch back with little fuss. Dumbledore may be able to see through invisibility, but portraits are a different matter entirely."

"As you say, father. Do you want me to contact their parents, or. . . ?"

Voldemort shook his head. "If you cannot clear them within the next couple of days, no. It would be more prudent to send each of the students mail alerting them to a meeting in Hogsmeade with you. Arrange a swap with one of the males, have your meal—the other two contacts should be able to cover you—then arrange a swap back."

"I suppose I could always drift past one of the secret passages out of the school to make sure the old man hasn't done anything to tag it for use, then make sure our people know about it so we can change back. Otherwise, I'd have to say a swap somewhere on the grounds where portraits cannot possibly spy. Whatever works."

"You know I have faith in you, and your damnable luck," Voldemort said with a smirk.

"You wouldn't have cut me loose otherwise, and you certainly wouldn't trust me to work off only sketchy plans."

"Well, as you pointed out just the other day, people keep poking huge holes in our plans, so why get uptight about measuring every last dimension and plotting every footstep?"

Brand grinned. "You're better than tea, father. I can always count on you to lift my mood. I suppose I should go check this last shift, then. If you're not going to be awake much longer, I'll just wait until the morning to tell you the results, or have Maer leave a note for you to see when you wake up."

"Whichever, son. I'm sure if you did find something alarming you would not wait to tell me, even if meant waking me up to do so."

"That's true." Brand got to his feet and drew close enough to drop a kiss on his father's head, then left to track down the latest security shift members.

-----

By the time Wednesday evening arrived Brand had checked out every person who normally resided on the estate and those who worked there. Voldemort knew he had been just as thorough with Draco and the others as anyone else, and he was satisfied. Dinner with the inner circle started out as any other, though once Brand had had a chance to check everyone, and had given his father the all clear, it abruptly switched focus into a discussion of the supposed Death Eater attacks accompanied by an admonition to keep an eye open for odd behavior from subordinates.

When Friday rolled around Brand and his team had already managed to ward the practice of Hermione's parents, their home, and the twins' home against ill intent. Anyone with a mind to do something unkind, destructive, or lethal was diverted, muggle and wizard alike. The Burrow, with Molly nearly always present was more of a challenge.

The attendance of his own people was optional, though all of them came, and as before, choice of seating was left up to those present. Brand was amused to note that Tonks ended up with Narcissa and Lucius at the head table. Had anyone been dared question it, they might have been moved to wonder over the fact that Voldemort and Brand had the company of several people none of them recognized.

Brand spent his time eating and appearing to converse while winnowing his way through the minds of those present, starting with the tables closest to his own. Draco could check in with security later as to who, exactly, had not come in response to the summons. For the time being he was being rather rude, though surreptitiously, by way of keeping track of each person Brand checked on a ledger on his lap under the normal line of sight.

Brand left the moment he was able to, exhausted, though he and Draco had found it necessary to unobtrusively shadow a number of people around the ballroom given that he had been unable to complete his checks by the time the dinner portion of the evening finished. He never even got a chance to dance with his mate, a cause for definite disappointment, though he had spotted Hermione dancing with one of the twins.

The next day saw him having lunch with his father and Draco.

"Draco has already reported to me those missing," Voldemort said as they were finishing up. "Some of those were unable due to conflicts I expect."

"I can track down the ministry workers easily enough, father, though their families would be more of an issue. Whatever excuse works, I suppose. Oh, and I was also looking for subversion on a different scale." Brand turned to Draco and said, "Anyone I had you mark with an M is against muggleborns, H was for half bloods, and S for sexuality. The numbers are a scale, higher being worse."

Looking back at his father he said, "If any of those people are important, I'm not sure how you want to handle it."

"That depends. If they can be gainfully employed to our advantage at the ministry, so be it. They can continue to be our eyes and ears even if they would not be allowed to move with us. We can establish a kind of liaison office within the British community as well."

"Then I won't borrow trouble and wonder about those who might be hopeless," Brand replied.

Voldemort nodded. "Draco, compile a preliminary report for me based on your findings of last night. If you need assistance with where they fit into the hierarchy, request your father's presence. I realize you shan't be able to begin until later today, so don't think you need to have it ready within the hour. Tomorrow is acceptable."

"Yes, my lord."

"Then I expect you two should get ready," Voldemort said as he carelessly folded his napkin and placed it on the table, then stood. After squeezing Brand's shoulder gently and bestowing a smile on them both, he left quietly.

Draco sighed slightly and said, "There are times when I wish my father would smile like that."

"Perhaps someday he will. Stranger things have happened."

A short time later they were in a small house in Hogsmeade, one that Voldemort happened to have access to even if it wasn't his name on the deed. The contact students arrived in due time and were shown to seats in the lounge, but before a word was said Brand checked them over for anything odd, such as monitoring spells put in place by Dumbledore.

"Right. This is a bit unorthodox, but necessary," Brand said. "One of you, either Carey or Makai, needs to stay here for the time being. The other, plus you, Aesica, shall accompany me back up to the school shortly. You will keep the curious off my back during the duration of this deception. Once I have finished my investigation we'll swap back. That will either be courtesy of one of the secret passages into the school, or somewhere private on the grounds. I'll have to check to make sure what I have in mind isn't being watched."

He was pleased that they simply nodded and did not pester him with questions. "Which of you wants to volunteer to be temporarily replaced?"

Carey and Makai exchanged a glance. "I will, my lord," Makai said. "Carey is the more loquacious of us, so it would probably be better for it to be me."

"So be it. Draco can keep you company while we're gone. Now, let's see about making me look like you."

Brand felt decidedly uncomfortable by the time he slid into a spot at the Slytherin table, but he suspected he would feel just as odd wearing his true form, having become so accustomed the one he had chosen freely. He let his mates subtly point out what Makai would normally have chosen from the selection of food and filled his plate, then set about eating, appearing to listen to the conversation around him as he carefully sent his mind questing into that of Dumbledore, who sat at the head table in all his genial glory.

What he found was not entirely a surprise, and he was exceptionally gentle in his search, absently likening it to strolling through a minefield without a map. After dinner, when Brand was feeling pleasantly full, the three of them went off on a walk, casually wending their way up to the third floor and along the corridors at a decorous pace. While the trophy room was sometimes interesting to browse, or even the armor gallery, it was more to the point that their choice of paths took them past the statue of the humpbacked witch.

A few unvoiced spells made it clear that someone had placed additional enchantments on the area which meant that Makai would not be getting back inside through Honeydukes. The three continued their stroll, this time heading back downward and to the outside. On ascertaining that nothing had changed insofar as the Whomping Willow was concerned, Brand decided to use that instead, and after telling his companions to wait, sent a small stone at the tree with enough force to hit the knot that stilled its movement.

As soon as he was inside he checked again and found no evidence of tampering by Dumbledore, then motioned Carey and Aesica inside and began the trip to the Shrieking Shack.

_:Father.:_

_:What do you need?:_

_:Please send Maer to Draco with a message? Have him bring Makai to the Shrieking Shack immediately. We'll meet them there, inside.:_

_:Consider it done.:_

They did not have to wait very long. Brand melted back to his normal appearance and fixed his clothing, then led them all back down the tunnel to the entrance. Once he was satisfied that no one was lurking about he stilled the tree a second time and ushered the students out so that they might return to their usual pursuits, but not without a stern warning to remain silent about their activities, though the fact that their minds were protected made it more or less redundant.

He and Draco were walking back up the tunnel when a faint pop had them both freeze in place for a split second, then turn, wands suddenly in their hands. Brand took a closer look, squinting because of the low light and his disbelief at what he was seeing, then shook his head.

"Dobby was wondering if sir would return," said the elf calmly, though his ears were upright with excitement.

"Return?"

"Sir was being a student earlier and sir was being Professor Archer."

"I see."

"Is Harry Potter no longer being Dobby's friend?" Dobby asked, one ear drooping slightly.

Brand lowered his wand and sheathed it, prompting Draco to do the same. "This isn't a very nice place to talk. Would you care to come with us to the Shrieking Shack?"

"Dobby is being happy to."

Brand nodded and motioned for Draco to continue on, then waited for Dobby to also move forward before heading up the rear. _:Father, the most bizarre thing just happened. Dobby just popped in to say hello.:_

_:I'm sorry?:_

_:Remus was right it seems. He's been aware of me the whole time, even as Archer. You might want to keep an eye on this so I don't need to relay.:_

_:I will do so.:_

Back inside the shack Brand dropped into a dusty chair and shot a curious look at the elf. Several privacy spells were thrown up before he asked, "Why now? And should I assume you've said nothing to the headmaster?"

Dobby look surprised for a moment, then shook his head violently. "Dobby is not betraying his friend. Dobby was curious. Dobby was not being certain before that Professor Archer is Harry Potter, but now he is. Sir coming back was enough, and Dobby is paying very close attention this time."

_:Have you ever attempted to ghost a house elf?:_ Voldemort asked.

Brand blinked and looked off to the side. "Dobby, are you going to be offended if I attempt to, for my own peace of mind, take a little look into your mind?"

"Dobby trusts Harry Potter."

_:I have no idea if this will work,:_ he shot back. _:Nothing says their minds are anything like our own, but I'll try.:_

Less than thirty seconds later he smiled. "Would anyone miss you if you were to visit with me for a while?"

Dobby shook his head. "Silly wizards is saying we all look alike."

Brand laughed softly and nodded. _:Father, what do you think? Ask him back to the estate for a chat?:_

_:That's fine.:_

"I'm not really comfortable talking here, Dobby. Would you be willing to visit with me at my home? Say, in about ten minutes time?"

"Dobby is willing."

"All right. I hope you won't mind if Draco is present."

Dobby cast an opaque look at Draco. "Dobby isn't minding."

"Then we'll see you in ten minutes. I doubt you'll have any trouble finding me."

-----

"I'll be damned. So much for needing Hermione to go looking for him," Brand said as he flopped onto his sofa.

Draco shook his head slowly as he sat down next to him. "He must trust you a lot if he's not raising a fuss over me being present. After all, my father wasn't exactly nice to him."

"If what I've seen is any indication, I think Dobby can take care of himself. He certainly defended Harry against Lucius without a trace of fear once he was free." Brand snapped his fingers to summon Maer, but ended up with two elves popping into the room. After exchanging a guarded look with each other, both turned attentively toward Brand.

"Maer, if you would, please bring up some refreshments?"

"Yes, master."

Once Maer had popped back out Brand turned to Dobby and said, "You're welcome to sit down if you'd like. I won't argue if you're more comfortable standing. Whichever you prefer."

Maer popped back in long enough to place a tray on the table, then disappeared, so Brand made himself a cup of tea, saying, "If you're thirsty, feel free."

Dobby opted for a small glass of water and a chair, and without any of the wailing he might have done in the past, which caused Brand a certain amount of surprise.

Eventually Brand said, "I don't understand. You suspected all along that Harry Potter wasn't dead, but you've never done anything about it, or mentioned it to anyone. Why?"

"Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby's friend is being more important than any master."

"All because I managed to get you freed? And by the way, my name is Brand these days."

Dobby shook his head. "Harry Potter is being special. Dobby has done nothing because Dobby is not knowing what sir is up to, but now Dobby is too curious to not be asking."

"Will you keep that secret, that Harry Potter is actually alive?"

"Dobby will." Then he looked at Draco and said, "Dobby is not sorry he threatened his former master."

Draco laughed. "I'm not going to argue that point."

"We were going to try contacting you," Brand said slowly, "but. . . ."

Dobby's ears perked up.

"I'm not sure you'll be very happy with how things have turned out."

"What is sir meaning?"

"Please call me Brand, Dobby, and I mean—remember when you originally came to find me? You tried to prevent me from going back to Hogwarts because of what Lucius was going to do?" When the elf nodded he continued, "Well, if you've not figured it out, I'm not on Dumbledore's side any longer. That man is evil. He's tried to have Remus killed, and he's seriously considering having Hermione and her parents killed."

"You confirmed it?" Draco interjected.

"Yes, it's as sis supposed. He took the fake plan we made and is using it for his own agenda. He's trying to show that his suspicions are not unfounded by making them a reality."

"Dobby can be helping. Miss Hermione should not be in danger," Dobby offered.

"I'm sorry, help?"

"Wizards is forgetting much about elves in the centuries they have kept them bound. Elves is being able to do many things. Dobby can help protect Miss Hermione without wizards being aware of it."

Brand considered that for a few moments, then said, "All right, but would you have to be nearby, or are you talking about something like wards you could put in place?"

"Dobby is meaning wards."

After a minute of further consideration he said, "Perhaps we can talk to her about it tomorrow. But, speaking of wards, do you know of any way to prevent ghosts from entering the Great Hall at Hogwarts for a space of time?"

"Dobby does, but it would not be lasting for very long."

_:This could be very useful,:_ Voldemort commented. _:You wouldn't be bringing this up if you doubted Dobby's loyalty.:_

_:He seems to be quite focused on me even now. I'm probably the only person he'll take real orders from, actually, though I don't think he'd take too well to the idea of being bonded. At that, Dobby has already proven that you can't stop even a bonded house elf from trying to spill secrets if it's important enough to them.:_

_:Yes, but from what you've said, he was extremely oblique about it.:_

_:True.:_ Out loud he said, "If you'd be willing to help with that a bit later on, I'd be grateful."

"Dobby is wondering why."

Brand considered the best way to approach the issue before speaking. "Dumbledore is not a nice man. I can read people's thoughts at will, Dobby, and I did so this evening with him, just like I did with you. I think you can understand that I'm slow to trust people these days. Dumbledore planned on killing me once I had defeated Voldemort, to make sure I couldn't give him any trouble. He tried to arrange Remus's death, he planned to arrange for Severus's death, and he plans on trying to kill the Grangers."

Dobby nodded, but otherwise didn't comment.

"I plan to end this insanity, Dobby."

"Brand is planning to kill Dumbledore," Dobby stated.

"Yes, I am, but not before making sure any number of people hear about the kinds of things he did to me or allowed to happen. He shouldn't die a martyr for a cause he's deliberately prolonging, or to people he kills when they're no longer of any use to him."

Dobby remained silent for a minute, then nodded. "Is Brand being on the other side?"

"If you want to call it that, yes. There's something very wrong with Dumbledore in my opinion. I don't intend to let him get away with what he's done, to gain more power over the wizarding world, and become a dark lord in his own right. That's the worst kind, you know. A man who is thought to be at the pinnacle of Light greatness, who rules by underhanded methods, using guilt and manipulation to persuade, or death if that doesn't work. One who masquerades behind a pleasant face while he hires mercenaries to terrorize the countryside so that his side has something to make noise about since we aren't doing those things to people."

"Dobby is not being very happy working for the man who is being bad. But who is Brand working for?"

"Working for?" Brand chuckled. "More like working _with_. I'm no one's pawn, Dobby. If you want to be technical, though, I'll say I'm the right-hand man of Lord Voldemort."

One of Dobby's ears perked up while the other drooped.

"He's not a bad man, Dobby, and he's my father now. I ran from Dumbledore because he's evil. Do you believe I'd be where I am now if Voldemort was also evil?"

"Dobby doesn't believe Brand is being evil."

"I can assure you I'm not, and I can assure you that my father is not, though it would be up to you to make your own decision on that score. Even so, would you be willing to help me, and to refrain from speaking to anyone about it? I really do want to make sure that Hermione and my other friends remain safe. I'd also like to know that the ghosts at Hogwarts can't interfere with what I plan to do. After all, once that has been taken care of, we can all sit back and work on more interesting things, like a new home."

Dobby's droopy ear came up slowly and he refilled his water glass.

Brand gave him an intense look. "If you want, I'm sure Maer would be happy to spend some time talking to you, or even Clip or Rigas. You can stay the night if you wish, if you think no one at Hogwarts would notice you missing for that length of time. Even if you decide not to help, I would hope you'll decide not to discuss this with anyone else."

"Dobby is not betraying his friend," the elf repeated. "But Dobby is wanting to meet Brand's father and see for himself."

_:I do not mind.:_

_:All right, father, but I shall do things the proper way,:_ Brand sent, then snapped his fingers. When Maer appeared he smiled and said, "Would you please ask my father to join me here?"

"Certainly, master." Maer popped out immediately.

While they were waiting Brand said, "Would you mind if I let Hermione know you've visited us? If you decide to stay the night, perhaps we could talk to her tomorrow about helping to protect her and her family."

"If Dobby stays the night, then Dobby is not minding."

Brand nodded. "Then I'll wait, of course."

Dobby nodded as a soft double knock came at the door. A moment later it opened and Voldemort stepped in, then closed it behind him.

"My lord," said Draco.

Voldemort moved forward to take a seat and said, "Son, Draco." Then he turned to gaze to the elf. "And you must be Dobby. I would like to say Brand has spoken highly of you, but in truth, he has said little of your past together. However, I have seen his memories, and know he would should he choose to."

Dobby angled an ear in Voldemort's direction. "You is being the master of Dobby's former master?"

"He has sworn fealty to me, yes."

"And to Brand?"

"Yes, he has," answered Voldemort. "Brand's voice is as mine among our people."

"You is speaking truth," Dobby said simply, then looked back at Brand. "Dobby is helping you, but Dobby is wanting something in return."

Brand blinked and leaned forward. "What would you like?"

"Dobby is not liking working for the bad man, so you is letting Dobby work for you."

"When did you become a Slytherin, Dobby?" Brand asked with some amusement. "All right. We'll have to discuss pay, then, and days off. But . . . you would need to remain at Hogwarts until Dumbledore is gone."

"Dobby understands that."

"Perhaps I should have Hermione negotiate a salary with you," Brand said with a slight smirk. "Though, I rather think she would try to get you to accept far more than you do now."

Dobby turned his head slightly and gave Brand a sidelong look. "Dobby is being able to hold his own against Miss Hermione."

"I don't doubt that one bit," he said with a laugh.


	28. In Between Days

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

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**— 28: In Between Days —**

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"Thank you for saving me from having to think too hard."

Brand glanced at his sister curiously, then said, "Is that even possible for you? It isn't as though your head has exploded yet, or even threatened to."

She glowered at him and said, "I'm just saying your little excursion has made things a great deal simpler and has saved us a lot of time. Besides, if what Dobby says is accurate, I can feel a hundred times better about things."

"I don't think Dobby would lie, sis. He might edge around the truth, but I don't think he'd deliberately try to mislead me."

"I know." After a sip of tea she looked up with an odd expression, one that conveyed curiosity and calculation. "He's . . . different. Somewhere along the way he changed from being what we all tend to think of as semi-normal behavior for a house elf into an independent being that displays a great deal of common sense and intelligence."

"Well—" Brand barely got the word out when she interrupted.

"No. I don't want you to misunderstand what I'm saying. Dobby already had those qualities. We know that from when he originally sought you out, how he tried so hard to get around the restrictions he was under in order to warn and help you. Granted, perhaps he didn't choose the best methods, but his heart was in the right place. But now . . . he's had time to consider things, on his own, and think through what he might do in response to certain events. Quite frankly, I'm amazed."

Brand nodded. "I know you mean that in a complimentary sense, in that there's a wealth of untapped resources if only people would bother to look past their own sense of superiority."

Hermione smiled brightly. "Along those lines, yes. But it does make me wonder about the house elves here, Brand. I know, some of them did come to help you kidnap Severus, but how much more could they do, willingly, if given the chance? I'm not saying that Maer and such are unhappy. I do wonder how much more a relationship could become symbiotic, to whatever degree, based on friendship, not servitude."

"I can see that. However, how many house elves would fall apart like Winky?"

She made a face at him, presumably for bringing up a logical point of contention. "I'll just have to spend more time talking with them." Then she flashed him another bright smile and changed the subject. "So, about this heir of yours. . . ."

Brand groaned softly and shook his head.

"You don't have some idiotic notion that you'd be alone in this, do you? And I'm not excluding Draco in that, by the way. Still, I expect you wouldn't mind some help along the way. I'm going to be an aunt, right?"

"I will be grateful for any help you can give me. Us. I would not in the least doubt that once Draco's brother is born that he'll come to us to be raised along with my own child, as siblings. But really, I don't want to talk about this. I'm not ready."

She sighed and focused a patient gaze on him. "You have to deal with it at some point. If not with me to begin with, then with Draco. You can't keep sticking your head in the sand and hoping it will go away until you're forced to acknowledge reality when presented with your child."

"I know, I know. I just. . . . Honestly, there were times I never thought I'd live long enough to have children. I never thought, beyond that, that I could find a person who respected and liked _me_, not the images. Every time father has brought the subject up I've told him how I felt, and he's accepted what I've had to say. After all, I did agree to this, but I've rarely taken the time to stop and think about it. At times I'm barely past internalizing that I'm bonded to Draco."

"Brand, how do you think Voldemort felt when you asked him to adopt you? Maybe it was difficult for him, too? Especially given the circumstances. But he obviously loves you and you've made a huge difference in his life. Perhaps you should try thinking about things that way, and how your own child could mean as much to you."

Brand closed his eyes and frowned slightly, then gave her an opaque look. "I'll try. Now, how did your talk with Dobby actually go."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but obviously thought better of pressing further. "He's a wily one, Dobby. We haggled for an hour before I finally managed to get him to accept three galleons more than the old man was paying him."

"That much?" he asked in surprise.

She shrugged. "Pish. I started high. Besides, I think he was enjoying it. He managed to undercut me quite a bit when he insisted that warding my parents counted as part of his normal duties and wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I think he's worked himself into the idea that these odd assignments are trifling issues that don't deserve special consideration."

Brand chuckled and said, "Sis, he was already willing to do that warding before he ever decided I or father were safe allies. I expect he would have done it regardless once he knew you were in danger. Don't take that choice away from him."

She gave him a peculiar look. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Should I be paying you for offering to be my child's aunt? For doing all the things you've done simply out of friendship through the years? Should I have been paid for saving the stone, or Ginny, or us for Sirius?"

Hermione looked quite startled for a moment, then nodded. "You're right, I'm sorry. It would almost be a slap in the face to insist on paying him for things of that nature. I guess I get a little too narrow in focus at times."

Brand grinned and wisely refrained from commenting.

-----

"Let's open this meeting with a discussion on Albus Dumbledore," Voldemort said. "He has decided, in his infinite wisdom, that we as an organization are not living up to our past reputation and has decided to correct that little problem by using mercenaries to pose as Death Eaters and terrorize the countryside."

Everyone present glanced at Brand for a moment, then turned their attention back to Voldemort.

"Yes, this information comes directly from Dumbledore's mind, as gleaned by Brand. I am open to suggestions as to our response to this outrage."

Remus was obviously feeling a bit irritated when he immediately suggested, "We could always bomb his home, sir."

Brand blinked at his godfather and mentally cringed at the expected reaction from his sister.

"Please elaborate," Voldemort said calmly.

Remus got a slightly feral look on his face before saying, "Well, sir, this isn't much different from before, correct? He tried to use me against you, so you used that against him. He's presently using your reputation against you, so why not turn it right back and have the Death Eaters retaliate in a very personal way? Surely we can find out, if we don't already know, exactly where he lives. After all, does anyone here honestly believe that Albus isn't expecting some kind of response to his antics?"

"Point," said Hermione somewhat stiffly. After Voldemort nodded at her she said, "I agree that Dumbledore must be expecting something in return, sir. He cannot possibly believe that you would ignore attacks you never ordered. However, what if his household consists of more than just himself?"

House elves. Then again, she might also be referring to family members, which made Brand wonder if Dumbledore actually had any other than Aberforth. A look around the table showed divided opinions; some of the inner circle looked rather excited about the idea, such as Dolohov.

Lucius chose that moment to speak up. "My lord, such an action, while serving to make very plain to Dumbledore your opinion of his theft, might also serve as an excuse for the minister and entourage to visit the school, thereby allowing Lord Brand to enact his plan."

Voldemort arched a brow in consideration, then looked back to Remus.

"Ah . . . yes. It is true that innocents might be harmed. That is, if we failed to check beforehand exactly what the situation is there."

Hermione sat back, satisfied for the moment that her objection had been acknowledged and not dismissed out of hand.

"Suggestion noted," said Voldemort smoothly. "Until we have further information on that, let us move on. Any other ideas?"

Aside from the somewhat plausible suggestion of attacking towns where family of Dumbledore was known to live, there wasn't much to be dredged up from the inner circle's collective pool. And at that, it was rightfully pointed out that unless a lot of wanton death and destruction was involved, Dumbledore might find such a response to be oddly toothless.

"That may be true," Brand stated. "However, it could also be seen, after the fact, as a feint. Suppose for a moment that we directly attack Dumbledore's home. It isn't outside the bounds of reason to have Death Eater teams flitting about in those towns, assuming there are any to bother with, to alarm people and have them alert the aurors as to possible dark activity. They would have something to do that's harmless while the last team takes care of our real objective.

"Of course, some of our people might find that to be pointless, but it could be worked so that they appear to be gearing up for something truly heinous and melt away at the first sign of ministry forces."

"To note," Severus said, "that would require a great deal of coordination, my lord, though it is not unworkable. Teams would need to be on standby, ready to move at a moment's notice."

There was silence for a time, then Voldemort spoke. "All right. First we must determine what the old man's household consists of, and the locations of any family members we might harass. Then we can determine if this plan is feasible. I should also note that we must decide on a date to take care of Dumbledore once and for all." He paused to look at Brand. "If we use this as a prelude to that event. . . ."

"I was thinking of Halloween, father."

Half the table smirked.

"What an interesting choice, my son. Fine. Then let us set in motion the gathering of information."

-----

Hermione jittered around nervously until Brand grabbed her by the arm and pushed her gently into a chair. "There's no sense in being like this until we've more information," he admonished softly.

"I know."

"Come on. Forget about having lunch in here," he said, then snapped his fingers. "Maer, I would like several things, please. First, check with Remus, Severus, and Draco to see if they'd like to join Hermione and me for a picnic out by the oak. If Joshua wants to come along, that's fine. And if the twins and Tonks are still on the estate, invite them as well. Then, once you know how many, have the kitchens prepare a basket for us and drop it off."

"Certainly, master."

"Thank you, Maer." He turned as the elf popped out and extended a hand to Hermione. "It's a beautiful day out, so we may as well take advantage of it."

A short time later they were sitting on a blanket in the shade of the oak, and their friends and associates slowly trickled in to join them. Judging by the size of the basket Maer had dropped off, nearly everyone was still lurking on the estate.

Brand had already delved into the contents and was happily tearing into a selection of fried chicken, completely ignoring Hermione's insistence on waiting for the others, when Remus and Severus strolled over and took seats rather close to one another. Other than quirking an eyebrow at such behavior, Brand did not react, much as he might be tempted to tease Remus. It would simply have to wait until a more opportune time.

"Well, go on. There's more than enough, I'm sure. We can all at least have a good meal before we scatter in every direction to get this next bit sorted out," he said, then reached into the basket to pull out a container of mashed potatoes and gravy to add to his selection.

"Halloween?" Severus asked dryly, reaching out himself to the basket.

Brand shook back his hair and gave Severus a half-lidded stare. "I think father would be absolutely heartbroken if I ignored family traditions, don't you think? Just crushed."

Severus snorted as Remus started chuckling in amusement. "Only you could get away with such a statement."

Brand grinned, then gave a slight wave as Draco, the twins, and Tonks approached. "Joshua didn't want to come?"

Severus shook his head. "He is amusing himself with some of the visiting children. I daresay he would not find it nearly so interesting to sit with us, all adults."

"All right," he said equitably, "I just didn't want him to feel left out." Then he sighed and glanced at Hermione. "I'm still worried about you and your parents."

"How so?"

"Dumbledore has plans to attack in our name. We know that now. What's going to happen when he sets that in motion and finds out his people cannot even get close?"

Hermione looked a bit lost on hearing that. Brand hated even bringing it up, but it simply would not rest easy in his mind. "I know, you have those emergency portkeys I supplied you with, but. . . ."

Remus cleared his throat. "You didn't get any sense of when?"

Brand shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I could go back and check again. There were so many things I wanted to verify that I'm afraid I let us down on that point."

"Brand, I know you would never purposely overlook information that would help keep us all safe," Hermione said. "You are not a god, you make mistakes, and have oversights. You're right, though, we need to look into that. I'm not so much worried about the Weasleys—they can all defend themselves, apparate, and so on, but my parents are next to helpless. If Dumbledore realizes that they've been protected from his efforts. . . ."

"How much of what we located in our lord's library could be found elsewhere?" Severus asked. "How much could Granger have found on her own?" he added, ignoring the look on her face at the use of her last name.

Brand wrinkled his brow in thought. "I don't know, Severus. Much of what father has is jealousy guarded and kept secret. The fact that you're even asking makes me think it's very unlikely."

"And it's not as though you would have access to the libraries of us evil people," Draco said with a nod to Hermione.

"I can go back. I'll just have to let father know first. The contact children will cooperate without asking any questions. Severus, you know which books were involved. Send out some discreet feelers. If it's possible that Hermione could have gotten her hands on any of that, we'll make it so, even if it does mean fiddling with memories of certain people. We can also keep in mind, I suppose, that once Dobby knew of the danger to sis, he would probably have helped her anyway. Should Dumbledore manage to figure out a house elf was involved, I think he could convincingly stretch the truth."

-----

And so he did, once again impersonating Makai for an evening, though he came away with nothing more than nebulosity. Oh, the old man planned to attack, but he seemed rather caught up in having his mercenaries stir the pot as far as things went, and hadn't quite worked himself up to deciding on a date for the Grangers.

If nothing else, it was both heartening and disturbing. Brand could only hope that they would be able to move ahead prior to that point in time when the old man did shake off his vagueness and strike. Granted, it would fail, but it would also raise questions they did not wish to be raised, and he did not want to place Hermione in a position where she would have to walk away from her parents in order to keep them safe. The thing was, she just might if it came to it.

As it turned out, Dobby was quite a knowledgeable creature when it came to certain things, and had obviously been eavesdropping. That didn't particularly upset Brand, especially considering it had been the reason the elf had originally come to his attention. Dobby also didn't scruple to stick to the rules, which Brand found rather endearing. He was beginning to really like the little elf—this elf that acted like he had a right to his own mind, and his own form of magic, and refused to act like a cowering, submissive creature just waiting for the next blow to be given.

In point of fact, Dobby had opted to do a bit of reconnaissance on his own, only bothering to mention it once he had returned. Brand was only mildly startled when the elf popped in without warning.

"Hello, Dobby."

Dobby stared at him for a moment, then flopped onto a chair. "Dobby has been investigating."

Brand arched a brow and nodded. "All right. There is something I ought to know?"

"Dobby is confirming his suspicions. The bad man is not having his own house elves. He is borrowing them from Hogwarts when he is being home."

Brand blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. "Can he do that? I thought the Hogwarts elves were bound to the school and not there for the personal use of the staff."

Dobby shrugged slightly. "Brand is knowing as well as Dobby that most house elves is being very . . . obliging."

He snorted softly and glanced off to the side. "So there isn't anyone at his home during term?"

"That is being correct."

"Hm. Well, that will appease Hermione, then."

"Dobby is being aware of that."

Brand looked back over to see a barely there smirk on the elf's face and chuckled. "You are such a Slytherin, Dobby. This is very good news. Obviously the headmaster won't be at his home for some time so we can go ahead fairly quickly with our plans, and then finish all this."

Dobby left not long after so Brand went off to find his father and update him. "Hello, father," he said just before pressing a kiss to Voldemort's cheek. He sat down on the edge of the desk and tilted his head to one side. "Dobby has done some exploring," he said, then took a few moments to pass along the new information.

"So we only need wait on the information regarding any possible family members still living aside from his brother."

"Yes. Unfortunately, as you know, I could not get a definite schedule from the old man's mind on the Grangers. I suppose if the worst happens and an attempt is made on their lives, we could arrange to hide them until we've taken care of Dumbledore. They probably wouldn't like that one bit, but I won't play fast and loose with their lives."

Voldemort shrugged. "Until we know more, or something happens, there is not much to be done. Likewise, the other teams are well into their schedules for our other projects."

"Such as home?"

"Yes. The first team has already set up the initial barriers and will shortly be moving on to encompassing a much wider perimeter. For now, that does mean the other teams have been able to begin their own work." Then he went silent and gave Brand an assessing look. "I wonder . . . at what point did I more or less hand over control of so much to you?"

Brand blinked slowly and smiled. "After you decided I could be trusted to handle it? After all, what's the sense in having an heir if they can barely tie their own shoes, father?"

Voldemort chuckled and shook his head.

"Besides, you have absolute final say in everything, and I know that. Just because I cannot recall you ever telling me no does not mean you wouldn't. Maybe I'm just too well behaved?"

Voldemort snorted softly. "Enough of business. What of our hedgehogs?"

Brand rolled his eyes expansively. "Remus hasn't told me a thing and he did promise to confide, so I must believe nothing much interesting has happened. Severus hasn't said anything, either, though I'm not sure if he would. Then again, I did confide in him after that talk with you about Draco, so he might? They were sitting terribly close to each other at our last picnic, though."

"I'm sure you'd have told me by now if Lucius had approached you."

"He hasn't. And if he hasn't by now, I suppose he won't. Do you think he would move with us? While I know he's still a wanted man, I have a hard time imagining him giving up his estate. It's been in the family for centuries, after all."

"Nothing says he has to give it up. There will come a time, sooner or later, when all will be forgiven, as they say. It's not like the minister would gainsay my orders and have the aurors actively searching for him or try to haul him back to Azkaban." Voldemort gave his son an amused smile. "In any case, Lucius must find it humbling, which is not necessarily a bad thing."


	29. Seeing Ahead

**Original Upload**: ??  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues.

* * *

**— 29: Seeing Ahead —**

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"I'm glad you could all make it," Brand said as he swept his gaze up and down the conference table. "You have been chosen because I know each of you is loyal, you trust me, and I can trust you."

Several of them looked almost pleased with themselves, but Brand repressed the smile that threatened to erupt. "I have a mission for you. I cannot explain why some things must be, but I trust that you will know I have my reasons. So, if any of you cannot contain your curiosity, say so now and I will release you from this particular duty."

He waited at least a minute, then continued when no one spoke up. "Very good. You will be guarding a family, two locations. I expect this to be a very boring assignment, but do not make the mistake of seeing it as any kind of punishment or cruelty on my part. This is extremely important to me. . . ."

-----

He was glad he had made quiet preparations. Brand was going over plans in his father's public study when Maer popped in. "Master, Wilson is being here to see you. He is saying it's urgent."

Brand nodded. "Send him here immediately, then keep watch on that room. You know what to do."

Maer popped out and a knock sounded a few minutes later, so Brand opened the door with a wave of his hand. Wilson stepped in and knelt briefly, then rose. Brand closed the door before gesturing toward a chair. "Report."

"My lord, Hutchins and I were on watch duty when at least a score of unidentified assailants appeared. They immediately—"

Dobby popped in, cutting the man off in his surprise, and looked to Brand.

"Please take a seat. I will be with you in just a few moments," Brand said to the elf, then turned back to Wilson. "Continue."

"They immediately tried to attack, my lord. I signaled our backup and waited for them to arrive before coming here to inform you. We took down five of them before that happened. I do not think they were expecting any kind of resistance."

Brand paused for a moment, sensing an arrival, then nodded. "Return, then, and make sure no one got too enthusiastic. I need at least one of them alive. You may go, quickly."

Wilson leapt to his feet and bowed, then rushed back out of the room. Brand turned his attention to the elf and asked, "What is it?"

"Dobby is thinking Brand might want to be knowing that his Wheezy was attacked."

"What!?"

"Wheezy is being alive. Dobby is knowing that Wheezy made it to his brothers, and they is bringing him to St Mungo's."

"Why on Earth would he be attacked? I never sensed anything like that in Dumbledore's mind," Brand protested.

"Perhaps Brand is not thinking to look for it," Dobby replied. "Miss Hermione has been in danger. Perhaps it is not being so strange that Brand's Wheezy has been too."

"Well, they were both Harry's best friends," Brand agreed, still confused over how he could have missed such a plan. Though perhaps Dobby was correct; maybe he never saw it because he never looked for it. "All right, thank you for telling me. I'm sure the twins will be contacting me once they can, and I know you'll tell me anything else that comes up you think I ought to know."

"Dobby will," said the elf, smiled toothily, then popped out.

Brand ran a rough hand through his hair and stood, swept the plans into a drawer and locked it, then headed to the second floor. Maer had done as asked and kept his guests sequestered in an antechamber. They were sitting when he swept in, obviously agitated and nervous.

"Mr and Mrs Granger," he said, "I wish we could be meeting under more cordial circumstances. My name is Brand Riddle and I'm a close friend of your daughter's." He didn't mention the fact that he was ghosting their minds enough to assure himself of their identities.

The father shot to his feet and said, "Where are we? And what happened? I thought Hermione was just being cautious when she insisted we take those portkeys."

Brand inclined his head slightly to the side. "I will explain as best I can. However, I would be a poor host if I did not see to your comfort. Would you care for refreshments?"

Mr Granger looked at him blankly. Brand gestured back at the seat the man had vacated and called Maer in. "Maer, I would appreciate if you brought us some refreshments, please, and then I need for you to arrange a discreet note for Hermione."

"Master is wishing Miss Hermione to come?"

"Yes, as soon as she can without raising suspicion."

In the time it took for Brand to take a seat Maer had returned with a tray containing tea and other drinks, along with a small selection of biscuits. Brand poured himself a cup of tea and said, "Please help yourselves."

The father shook his head abruptly as his wife poured her own cup of tea. "You said you would explain."

Brand nodded and sighed. "I had hoped it would not come to this. But given the circumstances, I am offering you sanctuary for the duration, though I'm really not sure how this will affect your business. We'll worry about that later, I suppose. To get down to the bare bones, you have been targeted for death by a madman."

"That Voldemort person?" Mrs Granger asked quietly.

Brand shook his head. "No, actually." Inside he felt a renewed glow of happiness that his sister had kept her secrets. Granted, she couldn't help but keep them, but still. . . . "Voldemort is the last person who would seek your deaths, odd as that may sound. It is true, however, that your family is a target simply because your daughter was a very close friend of Harry Potter. If this man were to succeed, your deaths would be more symbolic than anything else. Of course, I've done everything I can to make sure none of you so much as get scratched."

"But Harry Potter is dead."

"Yes, he is. Ron Weasley, Potter's best male friend, was also attacked today. He managed to get to at least two of his brothers and they took him to hospital. I'm waiting on more information on him. At any rate, where you are is simple. This is my home, and you are presently in no danger whatsoever, though you cannot roam freely or even leave for the time being. Until I know whether you are presumed dead or merely missing, I won't know how to proceed. I can, however, set you up in a suite of rooms with a balcony and guarantee that you won't be disturbed by anyone other than a trusted few."

Hermione burst in at that moment, breathless and a bit wild looking. "Mum! Dad! Oh, thank Merlin you're all right. You are all right? Brand?"

Brand chuckled and pulled her over into a quick hug. "They're fine, as you can see. If you need a calming potion, there's some in that cupboard back there."

She took a deep breath and shook her head. "No, I'm fine." After giving both her parents a heartfelt hug she sat down and poured her own cup of tea, then cradled it with both hands. "How long ago?"

"Perhaps a half hour," Brand supplied. "As I was saying before you arrived, I am going to have to wait on a decision here. If the old man thinks your parents are dead, they're going to have to stay here until he's taken care of. Otherwise, they can probably go back home. Well, with a new set of portkeys, that is."

"What exactly happened?" Hermione demanded.

He gave her a fond look. "I've had people watching on rotation, sis, two at a time. When your parents were attacked, backup was summoned and one came here to report before being sent back. I'm waiting for one of the team to give me a final report, and bring me back a gift." His smile was a bit feral.

Hermione glanced at her parents, then frowned at him. "A gift?"

"Sure," he said with a shrug. "I want some answers, and if I can arrange the gift's memory to our advantage, why not?" And then to distract her from any protests she might dream up he added, "Ron was also attacked."

She puffed up like an irritated cat.

"He's at St Mungo's. I'm sure I'll be hearing about that shortly as well," Brand said, hiding his amusement. "Now, it will probably be to our advantage for you, Mr and Mrs Granger, to appear either dead or gravely injured, at least to the old man, for the time being. Given that, I think you, Hermione, ought to go spread a family emergency story a bit later on, once I have more information. You can close down the practice for the duration."

"But—"

"Yes?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "No, all right. That's probably for the best."

"Then let me show you to a suite."

-----

Voldemort watched in silence as his son expertly questioned the mercenary, both verbally and by use of ghosting, then carefully altered the man's memories. Brand had already taken care of the captured Order members, assuring that what he had planned to plant in the mind of the man before him was not contradicted. The Grangers would be presumed dead for the duration, but without actual proof to back up that belief.

The other mercenaries had been killed outright by the team his son had sent, with one exception, their men not questioning their lord's orders, and he idly wondered what sort of effect it would have on Dumbledore, finding out that some of his dogs had lost their lives that day. A mental shrug. It held every likelihood that the old man would not care. After all, he would think one goal had been accomplished, so why bother to worry about the deaths of his tools? One could always find more people to hire from the dregs of society.

That in itself was an oddity. A mercenary was looked down upon because they fought for money, not loyalty, but they were often as loyal or more so if they were properly paid. At least they would fight, unlike the majority of the wizarding population. They sat snug in their homes, or frightened, knowing or hoping that someone else would be there to pick up the slack and take care of the problems that threatened their society.

In that sense, muggles were often better. Many of them willingly joined the armed forces, knowing what they might be called upon to do, and knowing they might die of it. But wizards? No, it was far easier to play the sheep, bleating at every startling occurrence, large or small. He sighed, then smiled faintly as his son packed the mercenary off with a house elf. The man looked as though he'd been severely beaten, and most likely remembered being so.

Brand looked over at him and smiled sweetly, and Voldemort felt his chest tighten as it always did when his son looked at him that way. He wondered at times about the concept of soul mates, and if that extended to other types of family. Perhaps it was so that Brand coming to him was something on the order of a miracle of chance. Not foreordained, just happenstance. Something that might be, and had become. Rather like how not every prophecy spoken would be fulfilled. Not something to be explored in depth, but more for idle speculation as fancy struck him.

"Are you all right, father?"

"Yes. I trust you will be verifying the results of your machinations."

"Certainly," Brand said with an impish smile. "And I'm terribly sorry, father, that I keep piling more new relations on you."

Voldemort snorted. As if that were true, and as if he could possibly resist that face and those eyes. "And their minds?"

Brand furrowed his brow in thought. "I've never tried it on a muggle. I suppose it would work? If that's what you wish, I'll try, though I hadn't planned on letting them loose until it was safe to do so."

"I do wish."

"I am happy to obey," Brand replied, a smirk hovering at his mouth.

Voldemort rolled his eyes openly. "As well you should, son." It always made him twinge inside to hear things like that, and he had never quite managed to decide why. "I could make your life a living hell if you disobeyed me," he said teasingly.

Brand slid off his chair and knelt before him, folding his hands under his chin in a prayer-like style. His eyes were wide and laughingly innocent as he said, "Please, father, never that. I would be devastated."

And he would be, Voldemort well knew. Despite just how much Brand had grown, how commanding and confident he was, an honestly meant wrong word from him would see his son crushed. He reached out to run a hand through his son's hair, then said, "Get up. You look ridiculous like that. Just imagine what would happen if a Death Eater walked in on us."

Brand laughed and got to his feet, retaking his chair. "I imagine they'd get entirely the wrong idea. I doubt, however, that one would be so bold as to enter without at least knocking first. At any rate, I expect that Hermione can shortly close down her parents' practice for the duration and I should get word soon about Ron Weasley. I think I will be very happy when this is over."

"I expect we all will."

Brand tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips briefly. "You know, I had the wildest urge not long ago to be not entirely truthful during my confrontation of Dumbledore."

"How do you mean?" Voldemort asked with an arch of his brow.

"Well. . . . I don't know, really. It's just, Dumbledore was so keen on the idea of me never being able to act on my nature, to tell anyone anything. It popped into my head one day that if he took things a step further, he could have arranged a far more nasty and sickening way to assure I would not be spending my time in anyone's bed for quite a long stretch."

Voldemort gazed at his son suspiciously. "I don't think I like that train of thought."

Brand shrugged. "I could almost see him having found someone, or forced someone, to, er, rape me, possibly repeatedly. It would have been one way to dissuade me from acting against his wishes. I'm sure in his twisted bog of a mind it would have made a certain kind of sense. And then I considered using that possible outcome as a strike against him. But then, it would be a lie, and it would only expose what I didn't want exposed in the first place, so I more or less discarded the idea."

He pondered that for a while, also being able to see how Dumbledore might have taken such an action if it meant his son would be too traumatized to ever think of having consensual relations with another man, and glad that it was only speculation on the man's ruthlessness. And on top of that, he could also almost see the man doing such a thing, then using it as blackmail material to ensure that his pawn would behave himself no matter what.

Voldemort shook his head slowly. "Don't lie, Brand. Just the truth, and if that isn't enough to sink his reputation, it really won't matter all that much in the end. He will be dead and you will have the satisfaction of finally being able to say what you've wanted to say to his face, in front of witnesses."

Brand gave a vague sort of nod. "And then we can work on everything else." He looked up, his eyes sparkling, and said, "I can't wait to see us a few years from now."

"Oh?"

"Absolutely, father. I'm starting to look forward to the idea of a toddler or two crawling all over you and demanding their grandfather's attention."

Voldemort groaned a second later, images of babies gumming his clothing flashing through his head, or spitting up on his shoulder. He had no doubt his son would make damn sure he was involved with those babies. "You're not too old for me to toss over my knee and paddle, young man," he retorted.

"Ooo, kinky. I'll have to mention that to Draco and see how he reacts."

Voldemort dropped his face into his hands and sighed. He simply could not win. "Go on, you wretched imp. Go see to your duties."

"As you command," Brand replied impudently.

-----

It had taken some time, but they did finally track down any possible members of Dumbledore's family. Well before then Brand had heard more on Ron's condition from the twins and had been assured that their brother was recovering nicely. Their mother, however, had put her foot down and insisted that Ron remain at the Burrow for the foreseeable future, and was trying to convince him he could not leave the house without at least one other person to guard his back.

Ron was reportedly not taking things well.

Brand had made a third trip to Hogwarts to assess the results of their recent activities. He was almost beginning to feel sorry for poor Makai having to give up so many dinners with his friends, though he expected that Draco was decent enough company. There was barely a difference in ages, after all, though there was the added awkwardness of Draco being in the elevated position he was by virtue of the bonding.

Hermione, after having heard through more normal channels about the attacks, had both visited Ron at St Mungo's and gone through the motions of closing her parents' practice for an indefinite period of time. The few employees weren't told much information that was truthful, and anyone else was given the strong impression that Hermione refused to believe her parents could be dead.

Brand and Draco returned from their trip feeling satisfied. "He thinks they're dead," Brand said as he flopped onto his couch, being careful to echo things to his father so he wouldn't need to repeat himself. "He's also a bit disappointed that Ron and Hermione managed to live."

"I get the feeling he doesn't have any idea that Hermione was never attacked," Draco said.

Brand felt assent from his father at those words. "He doesn't, which is a bit strange, but that's all right. He thinks she was extremely lucky, that's all. Luckier than Ron, certainly. If I weren't such a nice guy I'd propose killing every family member he has. But you know, I have to wonder if he gives more than a passing damn about any of them. Honestly, I think I walk away from these encounters with more questions than I managed to answer."

Draco snorted softly. "I can't imagine you'd want to spend long enough rooting around in his head for all your questions to come to mind and you to get answers for. You're not going to kill them, so it really doesn't matter. I would like to believe that once the old man is dead you can perhaps go back in once or twice to check the minds of people like McGonagall to see if there's anything we should be aware or wary of, and that would be more or less it. Followup work, basically."

_:I agree.:_

So Brand nodded.

"What about his dead?"

"He doesn't care." Brand made a face and continued, "They did their jobs, and he's happy he doesn't have to pay them now. He got work for free, essentially, and there's always more roaming about willing to take on jobs for money, even if they are less than honorable."

For some reason that made Draco laugh. "Oh, now that is rich. I find that hilarious, actually. You ghosted every last mind here, every last Death Eater, and the children, and there's been what—one traitor out of everyone? All our lord's people serve out of loyalty, not for money. I'm not trying to make this into a superiority contest, but it's obvious who actually can fill the role of leader, and it isn't Dumbledore."

_:I'll have to give him a pay rise,:_ Voldemort commented into Brand's head.

Brand bit his lip, then nodded at Draco. _:Oh? But we don't get paid. Unless you count me kissing him, that is. Should I kiss him more often, father? After all, if I take very good care of him, he'd never become disloyal.:_

He felt a twinge of pain between his brows a second later as his father hit him with the equivalent of a mental hex. _:Son, behave. If you kiss him into insensibility too often, he won't be of much use to us, now will he.:_

_:Yes, father,:_ he sent as contritely as he could, despite the urge to laugh. To Draco he said, "I had a funny thought the other day. I was telling father about how I could just imagine him being swarmed over by toddlers." Almost instantly he could feel a withdrawal from his mind that left behind a faint sense of mock disgust.

Draco looked shocked, then amused. "I don't even want to think about how a child that young could mangle our lord's name."

Brand did laugh then, uproariously.

-----

"We have four targets," Voldemort said. All his key people were gathered at the conference table, listening with all their attention. "I want three decoy team leaders from you. Brand will head up the final group. So, volunteers?"

Remus was conspicuously silent, making Brand think he wanted to be on his team. He had, after all, been the one to make the suggestion. Severus was also silent.

Lucius cleared his throat softly. "I will lead one, my lord."

"Excellent."

Dolohov volunteered next, a look of gleeful anticipation on his face. Brand made a mental note to discuss the man with his father, though he really doubted Antonin would disobey his orders once they were laid out. Still, he was one of the more sadistic of his father's followers and advisors. And surprisingly, Draco volunteered. After a few moments of thought Brand decided that his mate wanted to prove, to himself and others, that he could handle being a mission leader, and this was one that wasn't horribly taxing, but could still run into problems. It was more or less a good starting point.

Voldemort seemed pleased with that and nodded, then said, "Very well. Now, aside from those people Brand chooses for his team, you will all take squads and cause some general mayhem to further confuse things. Pick your target locations at random, though I do expect you will coordinate so there will be no overlaps in the actual execution."

Hermione shifted in her seat almost unnoticed. Brand spared a glance in her direction, wondering if she had already made her own set of choices and was wanting to divvy them up instead of the second string decoys having to waste time on it. He already knew she would not consent to go out on a mission, so it made sense for her to take on coordination if possible. He immediately passed on that thought to his father, getting a slight nod in return.

Voldemort produced three folders and handed one to each of the decoy team leaders. "Your targets. Go over these, then pick a squad of men to accompany you and make sure they are adequately briefed." He then turned his gaze on Hermione and said, "Blaze."

She started slightly in her chair. "Yes, sir?"

"You will serve as general coordinator for the remaining teams and will be responsible for keeping track of target locations, and possibly assigning them if there are problems choosing. You will continue to report directly to Brand."

"Understood, sir."

Voldemort nodded and produced another folder, which he slid down to the table to her, then looked at Brand. _:Choose those you wish from this bunch first, before I wrap this meeting up.:_

Brand nodded and smiled. "Remus and Severus, you're with me. Ember, Flare, Flash—that decision is yours."

Tonks and the twins exchanged a three-way look, then Tonks spoke first. "If I may, sir, I will go with Draco."

Brand glanced at Draco, who nodded. "Fine."

"We would prefer to accompany you, sir," Fred said, his eyes sparkling a bit.

"Certainly." Of course they would. They probably had some interesting new toys to test out. "Father?"

"Primary decoys, you may go. Questions and problems to me or Brand," Voldemort said, then waited for them to gather up their things and depart. "Son, you may use my study if you wish to discuss this with your team. Blaze, I will leave you and the others the conference room to hash things out." After giving a final nod to those remaining, Voldemort stood and swept out, but not before handing Brand the final folder.

Brand rose and moved to one side, gesturing at Hermione to join him. "All right," he whispered once she was at his side. "If you want us to stay, we will, and we'll huddle around one end of the table while you take the other. Otherwise, I'm going to bring my team up to my suite. I just don't know how you feel about being alone with this lot."

She looked uncertain for a moment, then shook her head. "I'll try it on my own. I can call Rigas if I need you."

Brand gave her an affectionate smile in lieu of a hug and nodded. "All right. I will remind him to call you Miss Blaze, then, should the need arise." He turned and grabbed his things, motioned for his people to follow, then headed out.

Once in the safety of his suite he called for Rigas, instructed him, then dismissed him and called Maer to bring refreshments. "All right. You lot would have to be idiots to not know we get the pleasure of blowing Dumbledore's house sky high. So, thoughts?"

-----

Their approach was cautious, with all of them busily checking for warding around the property. The other teams had gone out in waves, starting with the second string decoys in thirds, and finally the primaries. They should already be causing enough commotion to completely distract the aurors from their own activities.

Brand was not at all surprised to note that Dumbledore had excellent wards surrounding his property. A huddled, whispered conference ensued so they could share their findings, then Brand set about delicately finessing the first of the wards, one that would alert Dumbledore to anyone crossing the outer boundary. His team kept eyes out in all directions as he worked, ready to order a retreat should something go wrong.

A half hour later Brand had defused the first hurdle and was considering what else he needed to take down or alter before they could head in to set up their incendiary devices. He had, actually, been presented with an extra mercenary from the raid on the Grangers, and had a little something extra in mind for that one, just in case, and simply to add a new layer of obfuscation to everything. It might not even be touched upon, but neither would it hurt.

It took another two hours and repeated checks by everyone before Brand was satisfied, and they skulked toward the house like phantasms, drifting to a stop outside a set of French doors. Brand made a series of gestures, nodded, then pointed, watching as Remus and Severus went one way along the building perimeter and the twins went the other.

He focused on what was right in front of him, checking for alarms and whatnot, before eventually easing the doors open and stepping into Dumbledore's home. A sneer escaped as he took in the decor, the sunny yellow colours making him feel slightly ill, almost as though he was trapped inside a sherbet lemon. Brand made it halfway through the house before he was rejoined by his team, and they were sent off with another set of gestures to begin planting more of their collection of toys in the areas he had already checked out.

He continued on scanning for additional traps, directing his people wordlessly as they appeared, until finally they had finished with the house itself, and after a last look around, Brand motioned and led his people back outside and a safe distance away. It was only then that someone spoke.

"Start a small fire," Remus urged in a whisper, causing Brand no small amount of confusion.

"Whatever for?"

Remus smirked nastily and reached into his robes, then pulled out a clear plastic bag. "I brought the marshmallows!"

Brand slapped a hand over his mouth hastily, but could not prevent a snort of laughter when he noticed the confusion Severus managed to convey despite his mask. He nodded his approval, still not trusting himself to speak, and the twins searched out some sticks and created a small fire behind an outcropping of rock.

Remus hummed to himself as he snapped some thin branches off a nearby tree, then set about sticking the sweets on the ends and handing them around to everyone. He was more than happy to show Severus what to do.

Brand snickered and looked at the twins. "All right. Whenever you're ready, boys," he whispered, then perched his own stick over the fire to toast his treat.

A few seconds later they had an odd box out, one that strongly resembled the controls of a muggle radio controlled vehicle. It had not taken them long to figure out a way to get certain devices to work even in areas that were heavily saturated with magic, and had chosen it as the best way to trigger the explosions.

They exchanged a glance, then each extended a finger to press a big red button (another thing that made Brand want to laugh), then looked up sharply as the structure before them went up in a huge fiery ball of flame, pieces of the house being blown up and out in all directions. Just to be safe Brand erected a variety of shields around their little enclave, then settled back to enjoy.


	30. Puppet Master

**Original Upload**: 07 April 2006  
**Last Edited**: 02 January 2009

**Notes**: Minor edits, consistency issues. (Thanks to Bats for suggesting the topic of conversation at the Full Moon. The epilogue has been restored.)

* * *

**— 30: Puppet Master —**

* * *

Brand paced back and forth in front of his father's desk restlessly. The last thing he wanted to be doing was reporting on their mission, or hearing the results of the decoy teams. He finally sat down when Voldemort stared at him mercilessly, though he couldn't quite prevent his leg from jittering.

"I'm told it was quite a sight. They had a good portion of the villagers tied up spread eagled and naked in the center of town with a huge bonfire going," Voldemort was saying with a certain amount of amusement. "Naturally, the children had all been made to sleep, so it's not like they saw anything harmful to their delicate psyches. I'm quite sure the aurors got an eyeful when they finally arrived, not to mention the obliviators."

"That's wonderful, father," Brand said tersely.

"They were making threats of putting the muggles through the same things we were forced into during the burnings," Voldemort continued, then smirked.

"So things went well."

"Very well. And, I assume you can tell me the same."

"Yes, father. In short, I disabled any wards that would betray our presence or harm us, though I didn't actually remove them, then we moved in. I continued on through the house looking for anything nasty while the others worked the outside, then they came in and set things up inside. After that we retreated to a safe distance and the twins blew the house. Quite frankly, it was a spectacular explosion. I also made arrangements for the second mercenary." He stood up and started pacing again.

Voldemort nodded, a smirk still hovering about his mouth. "Then I would appreciate you providing me with a copy of the evening, or leaving that memory easily accessible, so I can look at my leisure."

"Yes, all right, I'll leave the memory accessible. May I please go?"

Voldemort spoke again, though he did not immediately give permission. "If we hear nothing within the next day or so, we'll have to make sure that mercenary is located by the right people."

"Of course. I made sure he won't go anywhere or get into trouble."

"You know, son, with the way you're acting, I might be persuaded to believe you don't find my company pleasing," Voldemort said casually.

Brand stopped dead and looked his father in the eye, scowling a bit at his barely concealed expression of mirth at his discomfort. "Father, please?"

Voldemort waved his hand. "Go on, then."

He flashed his father a smile and strode out quickly, thankful that they had been speaking in the private study on the third floor. Brand was inside his suite in mere minutes and stepping into his bedroom, closing the door with a sharp backward push of his foot. Draco was waiting for him, sprawled naked on the bed in an indolent pose.

Brand growled and began ripping off his clothing, not caring one whit for the damage he was causing, then crawled up Draco's body, nearly slithering like a snake, and latched onto his mate's mouth in a savage kiss.

-----

Two days later, on Halloween morning, a highly intoxicated and indiscriminately chatty mercenary turned up at the ministry after a minor floo 'accident' and was quickly taken into custody once people made sense of his somewhat incoherent and all too free speech. That, of course, gave the Minister of Magic the perfect excuse to visit Hogwarts with an entourage in tow.

And naturally, Brand was a part of it.

Dobby, being the amiable sort of fellow he was, had warded the Great Hall for all he was worth. If a real ghost managed to enter, it would not be for lack of effort on the house elf's part. Brand had absolute faith in his friend, but also knew he should not let things drag out if possible, even though a few other elves in his family's service had chipped in to assist once Dobby had talked them into it.

He followed the minister into the Great Hall, their arrival causing a definite disturbance; it was surely not every day that this sort of thing would happen. Dumbledore hid his surprise well, appearing as sage and knowing as always, though other professors were not quite so well schooled in that respect. Brand found it amusing that McGonagall seemed particularly flustered and speculated wildly in the privacy of his mind about her quick, darting glances at the minister.

Then again, perhaps not so private. _:You're making me ill with these speculations, son.:_

Brand refrained from rolling his eyes. _:Well, it is all rather peculiar, don't you think? She keeps eyeing him like catnip or something.:_ He gazed about the room as though keeping an eye out for insurgents or snipers, ostensibly ignoring the greeting going on between the minister and Dumbledore.

_:Do you suppose we should send her some for Christmas?:_

_:If you're going to be that thoughtful, daddy dearest, you should make a plush minister doll and fill that up. I'm sure she'd love it.:_ He nodded sharply when the minister gestured, then took up position behind him, along with his comrades, after the man took a seat at the head table.

Brand waited until everyone settled down and stopping staring, then waited some more, still pretending to ignore the hushed conversation going on in front of him. And then, he acted.

There was a strikingly soft sound made, one that somehow carried throughout the hall, drawing attention to the doors, which perfectly framed the ghostly form that floated into view. Silvery spectacles refracted light from the candles overhead in an oddly compelling display as the figure floated forward, an expression of deep and abiding pain on its bruised and bleeding face.

Dumbledore broke off his conversation and stared along with everyone else, and Brand briefly regretted not being able to see the man's face. It wouldn't matter, after all, but it would have been nice; his position simply would not allow for it.

The figure continued up the main aisle, finally drifting to a stop not far from the dais. Brand chose that moment to cast a few subtle spells over the headmaster, like a net of softest silk, barely felt or noticed.

"How could you?" asked the ghost of Harry Potter. "Sir, what did I do that was so terrible that you would do that? How wretched was I and undeserving to have suffered so much when you could have stepped in? Please tell me."

Harry paused, gazing searchingly at the headmaster, then shook his head regretfully. "I see. I guess you say nothing because you can't think of a nice way to divert my attention this time, to distract me. Maybe it doesn't matter. I'm just a ghost, right? I don't need to know anything."

The ghost sat in midair, for all the world looking like a chastised or bewildered schoolboy, his hands folded awkwardly in his lap and twisting occasionally.

"Maybe they need to know. Did you know? I just can't decide. Maybe not, but maybe you did. I kept trying to tell you, and you just didn't listen, or you didn't want to. Maybe it is because you knew all along. Who sends out the letters, professor? Do they see the addresses? Shouldn't _someone_ have noticed mine was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs?"

Gasps rang out from various students, and still Dumbledore did not speak. No one needed to know he could not. No one needed to be aware of the fact that Brand was having an extra bit of fun by glamouring the man's face to display exactly what he wanted seen.

"Is that normal, sir? Please tell me. Is it normal to not know your name until you're five years old and must attend school? How many children here thought their name was 'boy' or 'freak' as they were growing up?" Harry glanced around the room before resting his gaze back on Dumbledore, whose expression presently appeared to be a bit steely.

"Is it normal to live in a cupboard until you're eleven? Why did you never check on me, sir? Did you agree with those people, my family, that I was a freak? I guess I could understand if you did. I survived the killing curse that once, so maybe I was a freak, something to be hidden away and not talked about. I didn't do so well the second time, did I."

Harry laughed bitterly and ducked his head as though ashamed. "I think now I was a fool that year. Should it have been that incredibly easy for three first years to win through to the philosopher's stone, sir? Looking back on it, I almost think you meant for it to happen that way. You were conveniently called away the very same night Voldemort went after it. It was placed into an object you knew I was aware of the nature of, because you were the one to explain about it to me. Another coincidence, I guess.

"And I saved it, only to hear that you destroyed it, the only known stone in existence. Or did you? Will you tell me this, then? How did you not know that Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort, sir, when you have every portrait in the castle reporting to you anything of interest? Or . . . did you?" Harry sighed audibly when Dumbledore didn't respond, as Brand carefully eyed his audience; everyone seemed to be spellbound, barely breathing for fear of not hearing properly.

"You never really did answer my questions then, just like you aren't now." The ghostly form shrugged and twisted his hands in his lap. "I knew for sure you never checked up on me when I got back to my aunt and uncle. How many children are chucked in a room with bars on the windows to prevent it being used, with seven locks on the outside of the door to keep them in, and a cat flap through which cold tins of soup are pushed every so often as meals? Hedwig nearly starved to death because of it.

"If you were keeping an eye on things, you would have known and done something, wouldn't you, sir? I had to be rescued by friends. It wasn't until much later on that I found out you did have a spy in my neighborhood. So how come you didn't help me? I looked up to you, trusted you completely, and you never came for me."

Dumbledore's expression changed to one of mild chagrin, causing a number of students to frown in consternation as they worked out the implications. McGonagall laid a hand on the headmaster's arm, but he made no move to acknowledge it.

"I guess most of my second year is beside the point. The only really important thing was saving Ginny, sir, right? Of course, that was helpful because it meant the school didn't need to close down. It's hard to be a headmaster with no students, huh? And it's the same thing there, too. How could you miss that a student was being possessed? How could you let that happen?

"For that matter, how could you let my godfather go to Azkaban without trial, sir? You've been the head of the Wizengamot for how long? Why did I have to find out the truth in a dirty shack? And, why did you encourage me to break the law that night? I could have been sent to Azkaban if I'd been found out."

Brand changed Dumbledore's expression to one of vague irritation and watched as student faces displayed disbelief in response. A movement from overhead caught his attention, and he noticed Dobby peering down at him. Ten fingers were briefly displayed; he would have to hurry things along.

Harry heaved a huge sigh as his eyes became a bit watery. "And then you hire a Death Eater to teach Defense? Honestly, sir, at times I look back and wonder if you really were trying to get me killed in your enthusiasm to prepare me for what was ahead. Oh, yes, let's not forget about my fifth year," he said, voice rising a bit and becoming edgy.

"You treated me like a leper, sir. You ordered me to learn Occlumency, but never bothered to tell me why. Never told me the dangers I could be facing, dangers you suspected," he said, voice rising higher and distinctly accusatory in tone. "You never told me Voldemort could possess me!" he screamed.

"You kept me so far in the dark I nearly died that night, my friends nearly died!" A tear escaped, leaving a glistening trail down Harry's silvery cheek. "My godfather did die!" he shrieked. "Was I such a bad child, such a disappointment to you, that you simply didn't care about any of us!? And then, worst of all, your two points of staggering neglect. You, the man who finally put guards on my home. You who let that drunken thief be one. The one time I actually needed you, feared for my life while not at school, you weren't there, sir!"

Harry reached up with his hands and gripped his hair wildly, making it even more of a mess. Dumbledore's expression was gradually changing to something Brand might have expected the man would be feeling, red-faced inarticulate rage at being questioned by a thing, a tool, a pawn, a child. It was slowly having an effect on the breathlessly watching student body.

"Tell me, sir, tell me! All those guards, and I was captured in Hogsmeade? Was that drunken sod on duty again, was that it? Did he go off to make another shady deal for smuggled goods? Why didn't you come!? You were like a grandfather to me, and you abandoned me! Every other time you made it before it was too late, and this time I—"

There was a pregnant pause before Harry whispered brokenly, "I died," then he stood swiftly and screamed, "I will never forgive you, sir, never!" The ghost began to cry silent tears as it spun in place and fled toward the doors of the Great Hall. It was the first and last time anyone magical would ever see Harry Potter cry.

Brand, some of his power returned to him on having released the fake specter, unleashed two spells in anticipation of his final actions. The first scrambled Dumbledore's brains like eggs in a searing frying pan. The second was quite simple, a wordlessly cast imperius. Dumbledore's expression rearranged itself into one of chagrined remorse as Brand caused him to shake off McGonagall's hand and rise, extending one trembling arm toward the nearly disappeared ghost.

"Harry," he said, "child, you will never know just how much I h—" Dumbledore broke off, his arm swiftly moving back to clutch at his chest as the doors slammed shut seemingly of their own accord.

The student body was becoming horribly restless, the whispers starting amongst them and increasing in volume, with both speculative and accusing looks being shot up at the head table. Brand waited, praying one of them would give him the opening he wanted, and then it happened. Though, for all he knew, Dobby might have interfered on his behalf.

Dennis Creevey pushed to his feet at the Gryffindor table and yelled out, "Yes, how could you, sir? He was our savior, our hero!"

And that was all Brand needed to be persuaded to reach out with his power and stop Dumbledore's heart. Even if they somehow managed to get him breathing again, his mind was a wasteland. He released his curse and watched with internalized glee as the headmaster toppled over slowly, everyone too surprised at events to bother to attempt to catch him.

It made for a satisfying thud as the man hit the floor.

Brand and his compatriots instantly surged forward and yanked the minister from his chair, surrounding him for protection, and dragging him back away from the table, closer to the side door at the back of the dais.

For a few precious seconds the inhabitants of the hall were frozen in shared shock, then the screaming began, a Hufflepuff losing her head completely and expressing her fear in a piercing way. That set off others, and the professors were hard pressed between deciding to bring order to the room or rushing to investigate Dumbledore's health.

Brand touched the minister's shoulder fleetingly, saying in a soft, even voice, "Sir, you may wish to consider taking charge of this mess. The deputy looks like she's about to pass out."

The minister looked back over his shoulder, paused for a heartbeat, then said, "Move to the front of the dais and keep the students back, two thirds facing forward, one third back. You"—he nodded at Brand—"stay with me."

As the bodyguards spread out to follow their orders the minister cast Sonorous and addressed the room at large. "Silence! All prefects will immediately escort their houses back to their common rooms and dormitories. Head boy and girl will remain here for the moment in case they're needed." The man waited a moment, until he saw evidence that his orders were being carried out, then nodded and tucked his wand away.

A short time later they were gathered up in the infirmary; Dumbledore was irrevocably dead, much to Brand's delight (and thanks to his continued efforts to ensure he could not be revived). He made a mental note to get with the contact students as soon as possible and retrieve memories from each of them so he and everyone else who had not been able to be present could see things properly as they'd unfolded.

It was not much of a shock when Arthur Weasley rushed into the ward, red-faced and panting from exertion. The minister did not comment, though he could be seen casting the occasional quizzical look in that direction. Brand was pleased that he was reacting as he ought to be, not forgetting his role in this particular farce.

He was beginning to get bored by the time a half hour or so had passed, though it did finally come out to some degree why the minister had chosen to make a visit, having previously been speaking to Dumbledore too softly to be overheard by others at the table. But the minister brushed it off as an unimportant issue given the gravity of their current situation.

Poppy finally took pity on Minerva and sedated her, tucking her away in a private room and delegating temporary control of the school into the hands of Sprout and Flitwick. Shortly thereafter the minister made his apologies and left, and Brand went so far as to escort the man all the way to his home, whereupon he smoothly dropped the act.

"Minister, well done. I know my father will likewise appreciate your steadfast loyalty and cool head."

"Thank you, my lord. I am happy to be of service," the minister said with a slight bow.

Brand smiled charmingly and nodded. "Well, it's been a delightful evening, but I think I'll be heading home now. Until next time," he said, then hastened off cheerfully.

* * *

**Five Years Later—Serpens, Ophiuchus **

* * *

Brand strode into the bar, pausing on the threshold, then surged forward as he spotted his godfather sitting in one of the booths fiddling with a glass. Patrons bowed respectfully as he passed them, and he nodded absently in response before sliding onto a padded bench. "Why here?"

Remus smiled softly and tilted his head. "Why not here? It was too tempting, Brand—a place called the Full Moon?"

"Yes, but is the food any good?"

"I have no idea, and we don't have time in any case."

"Sorry I'm late. I was talking with father and lost track of the time. I'll probably be late to see Draco, as well."

Remus shook his head as a server appeared, slid a drink onto the table and murmured, "My lord," then fled.

Brand rolled his eyes and sighed, causing Remus to chuckle softly. "And how exactly is it that people know what I drink?"

"Gossip, my dear godson. Did you bring it?"

"Oh, yes." Brand reached into his robes and withdrew a velvet box, then laid it squarely on the table in front of Remus. "It's perfect."

A gentle smile lit Remus's face as he reached forward to open the box, then broadened into a full-fledged grin. "Yes, perfect. If Severus doesn't love this I'll be completely floored."

"Maybe he'll be completely floored that one of you finally worked up the courage to ask. Speaking of which, when do you plan to?"

Remus checked the time and grimaced. "Er, in about twenty minutes, actually."

"Not here, surely," Brand said, then knocked back half his drink.

"No, no. I don't think he'd appreciate that." Remus closed the box and scooped it up, tucking it into his robes. "I've got to go," he said and rose, preparing to pay for the drinks.

"Don't, it's on me. You can repay me by promising to spill every last detail later on, okay?" Brand drank down the remainder in his glass, then stood to engulf his godfather in a hug and kiss him on the cheek. "Go get him, Moony."

Remus squeezed back, then detached himself and strode out, a man with a purpose. Brand grinned and shook his head, dropping a couple of galleons on the table, then left as well, heading for the park. The 'sky' overhead was hazy due to the barriers keeping back the sea, and one was far more likely to see marine life swimming by than clouds, but it was lovely in its own way.

He suffered in silence the repeated bowing he got from passersby and eventually entered the park, instantly spotting his quarry. Hermione was flat on her back being tickled mercilessly by Callidus and Pavonis, and apparently enjoying every second judging by her shrieks of laughter. He strode over quickly and dropped down onto the grass next to them, only to be pushed over as the boys promptly abandoned their victim and pounced on him instead.

It was a beautiful day to be alive.

**— The End —**


End file.
